The Endless Forest
Page 138
When he turned his head to look at her, she could make out nothing untoward in his expression.
“Mister Ethan is a good man,” he said finally.
Callie sighed with relief. “Yes, he is.” She let her eyes wander over the saplings, though that very act made her heart race with fear.
“How is it?”
She didn’t need to be specific; Levi knew exactly what was on her mind.
“Good,” he said. “I’ll tell you this for sure, there ain’t an apple tree in all God’s creation better looked after.” And then, more softly: “Won’t be many days now before she blossoms.”
The apple blossom days had always been her favorite, second only to the harvest and far better than any holiday. This spring she had been hoping for fruit from three of the Bleeding Hearts; sometimes she could forget, for a little while at least, about the true depths of her loss.
“Did you tell your husband about the Bleeding Heart?”
She started to hear Ethan called her husband, but more disturbing still was the knowledge that she had not even considered telling him the secret. Could not imagine telling him.
“I didn’t,” she said. “And I won’t.”
“Why not?”
She looked Levi directly in the eye. “I suppose I’m being superstitious, but I want to keep it between the two of us. Does that seem odd to you?”
“No,” Levi said. “That make perfect sense to me.” His expression relaxed a little, and Callie had the urge to leave things just where they were. But she couldn’t, in good conscience.
“You know about Jemima.”
There was the slightest stirring from him. A tightening of muscles that came and went almost instantly. As seldom as this subject came up over the years, Levi’s reaction was always the same. He went from quiet to silent, and nothing could make him talk about Callie’s stepmother.
“I’m sorry to have to say any of this, but do you remember, was she pregnant when she went away from here?”
In the silence she knew that they were both reliving those few difficult months when Levi had lost his mother and Callie had lost everything.
She cleared her throat. “She brought the boy back here. He’s here. I saw him, Levi. I talked to him. I think—I know that he’s my half brother. When you see him, you’ll know it right away too.”
Levi stood very slowly, his arms hanging straight at his sides. He said, “I got no interest in seeing that woman’s child, and neither should you.”
Callie stood too, her heart beating so hard she could feel it in her hands. “Levi, he looks like my father. He looks just like my father, and—”
“Miss Callie,” Levi interrupted her. “Let me tell you plain and you listen to me now. She playing games with you. She want you to let that boy close so she can get close her own self. Don’t you be took in. Don’t let her do it.”
Levi turned without another word and walked away into the dark.
Chapter XLVII
Martha had always considered herself a composed person, not easily overwhelmed by stressful or demanding situations.
It was a characteristic that she valued in herself and in others, but over the course of the next ten days, she came to believe that she had overestimated her skills. She was a new bride in a new household, teaching for the first time and dealing with the sudden and unwelcome reappearance of her mother and the boy who was supposed to be her brother. It was a great amount to deal with all at once, but long conversations with Daniel and the rest of the family had been helpful. It would not be pleasant when she finally had to face Jemima, but she could manage, when the time came.
Except it didn’t. A week after Jemima had first come to Paradise, Martha had still not seen her, nor had she had any other kind of communication. Every day she went into the village to teach, fully expecting to come face-to-face with her mother. Every day her mother stayed away.
There were reports of her. Mr. and Mrs. Focht ate their meals in the common room at the Red Dog, and went walking every day after dinner and supper both. Young Nicholas was often with them. They spoke to no one. Becca conducted all business through the Fochts’ servants, who were utterly polite and efficient.
All of this made Martha supremely uneasy, but there was more.
Oddly enough, she saw nothing of Callie either. There were a dozen excuses, but in the end it was impossible to deny the truth: Callie was avoiding her.
If not for Daniel’s calm support, Martha thought she might have given in to anxiety and gone into hiding as Callie had. But she was newly married, and married into the large and complex Bonner clan, which turned out to mean that she had no opportunity to indulge in worry and self-pity.
She had a household to manage, something she had not thought about at all. Within a day she had to laugh at her own temerity. A house on a mountainside more than two miles from the nearest neighbor—and uphill miles, at that—had nothing to do with a town house on Broadway with a dozen servants and daily calls by the butcher and baker and dairyman. To her immense relief, Daniel seemed to realize what would be required before she did, and so he arranged for Betty Ratz to come up from the village every morning, bringing new bread and a bucket of milk with her. While they were teaching, Betty cleaned and washed and kept an eye on the puppy, who was too much of a distraction to take into the classroom every day.
Teaching turned out to be not quite so hard as she had feared, but those five hours from nine to twelve and one to three drained her of every ounce of energy. She was always ravenously hungry and ate until she was satisfied, and still the waistband on her skirts was looser. It was all the walking up and down the mountainside, she told Daniel.
“Mister Ethan is a good man,” he said finally.
Callie sighed with relief. “Yes, he is.” She let her eyes wander over the saplings, though that very act made her heart race with fear.
“How is it?”
She didn’t need to be specific; Levi knew exactly what was on her mind.
“Good,” he said. “I’ll tell you this for sure, there ain’t an apple tree in all God’s creation better looked after.” And then, more softly: “Won’t be many days now before she blossoms.”
The apple blossom days had always been her favorite, second only to the harvest and far better than any holiday. This spring she had been hoping for fruit from three of the Bleeding Hearts; sometimes she could forget, for a little while at least, about the true depths of her loss.
“Did you tell your husband about the Bleeding Heart?”
She started to hear Ethan called her husband, but more disturbing still was the knowledge that she had not even considered telling him the secret. Could not imagine telling him.
“I didn’t,” she said. “And I won’t.”
“Why not?”
She looked Levi directly in the eye. “I suppose I’m being superstitious, but I want to keep it between the two of us. Does that seem odd to you?”
“No,” Levi said. “That make perfect sense to me.” His expression relaxed a little, and Callie had the urge to leave things just where they were. But she couldn’t, in good conscience.
“You know about Jemima.”
There was the slightest stirring from him. A tightening of muscles that came and went almost instantly. As seldom as this subject came up over the years, Levi’s reaction was always the same. He went from quiet to silent, and nothing could make him talk about Callie’s stepmother.
“I’m sorry to have to say any of this, but do you remember, was she pregnant when she went away from here?”
In the silence she knew that they were both reliving those few difficult months when Levi had lost his mother and Callie had lost everything.
She cleared her throat. “She brought the boy back here. He’s here. I saw him, Levi. I talked to him. I think—I know that he’s my half brother. When you see him, you’ll know it right away too.”
Levi stood very slowly, his arms hanging straight at his sides. He said, “I got no interest in seeing that woman’s child, and neither should you.”
Callie stood too, her heart beating so hard she could feel it in her hands. “Levi, he looks like my father. He looks just like my father, and—”
“Miss Callie,” Levi interrupted her. “Let me tell you plain and you listen to me now. She playing games with you. She want you to let that boy close so she can get close her own self. Don’t you be took in. Don’t let her do it.”
Levi turned without another word and walked away into the dark.
Chapter XLVII
Martha had always considered herself a composed person, not easily overwhelmed by stressful or demanding situations.
It was a characteristic that she valued in herself and in others, but over the course of the next ten days, she came to believe that she had overestimated her skills. She was a new bride in a new household, teaching for the first time and dealing with the sudden and unwelcome reappearance of her mother and the boy who was supposed to be her brother. It was a great amount to deal with all at once, but long conversations with Daniel and the rest of the family had been helpful. It would not be pleasant when she finally had to face Jemima, but she could manage, when the time came.
Except it didn’t. A week after Jemima had first come to Paradise, Martha had still not seen her, nor had she had any other kind of communication. Every day she went into the village to teach, fully expecting to come face-to-face with her mother. Every day her mother stayed away.
There were reports of her. Mr. and Mrs. Focht ate their meals in the common room at the Red Dog, and went walking every day after dinner and supper both. Young Nicholas was often with them. They spoke to no one. Becca conducted all business through the Fochts’ servants, who were utterly polite and efficient.
All of this made Martha supremely uneasy, but there was more.
Oddly enough, she saw nothing of Callie either. There were a dozen excuses, but in the end it was impossible to deny the truth: Callie was avoiding her.
If not for Daniel’s calm support, Martha thought she might have given in to anxiety and gone into hiding as Callie had. But she was newly married, and married into the large and complex Bonner clan, which turned out to mean that she had no opportunity to indulge in worry and self-pity.
She had a household to manage, something she had not thought about at all. Within a day she had to laugh at her own temerity. A house on a mountainside more than two miles from the nearest neighbor—and uphill miles, at that—had nothing to do with a town house on Broadway with a dozen servants and daily calls by the butcher and baker and dairyman. To her immense relief, Daniel seemed to realize what would be required before she did, and so he arranged for Betty Ratz to come up from the village every morning, bringing new bread and a bucket of milk with her. While they were teaching, Betty cleaned and washed and kept an eye on the puppy, who was too much of a distraction to take into the classroom every day.
Teaching turned out to be not quite so hard as she had feared, but those five hours from nine to twelve and one to three drained her of every ounce of energy. She was always ravenously hungry and ate until she was satisfied, and still the waistband on her skirts was looser. It was all the walking up and down the mountainside, she told Daniel.
