Bittersweet (47 page)

Laney nodded. “Laundry.”

“Nope, honey. What they’re doing is showing us how much they love us. Ain’t often you get a chance to see something like this. Fill your eyes, Laney. And fill your heart. Eddie’s a fine man. If that’s not proof out there, I don’t know what is.”

“There we go!” Laney let go of the wheelbarrow’s handles. For the past two days, they’d made cherry pies, tarts, canned cherries, and fruit leathers. Everywhere about them, new life abounded. “Just look at this, and it’s only part of one day’s harvest!”

“The Lord’s been generous,” Mrs. O’Sullivan agreed as she looked at the heap of vegetables they’d picked. “Ivy, you need to go rest.”

Ivy pressed her hands to the small of her back and arched. “Don’t mind if ’n I do. Ain’t feelin’ like no spring chick no more.”

“You’re not an old hen like me, either.” Mrs. O’Sullivan gave Ivy a hug.

“Don’t talk about chickens around Ruth,” Laney whispered as her sister-in-law and Amanda came along with Hilda and the other wheelbarrow.

“We have plenty of time before lunch,” Hilda declared. “Let’s empty these out and go do some weeding. Ivy’s in no shape to be helping with that chore.”

“I’ll be setting Sean and Dale to weeding when they come home from school. Ruth, Galen’s going to town today. I’ll ask him to buy you some lemon drops at the mercantile. If you suck on them, they’ll help settle your stomach.”

“I’d stand on my head in a weed patch if that would work.”

“You couldn’t possibly do such a thing,” Laney said.

“On account of ever’body bein’ able to see that you got lelimbs,” Ivy tacked on. She looked inordinately pleased that she’d caught herself and minded her manners.

After lunch Laney stayed to work with Ivy on reading and writing. “Here are the sentences I want you to copy today.” Laney set down a page with three sentences on it. After each, she’d left sufficient space for Ivy to print them.

Ivy squinted at the first line. “‘God is the King.”’

Laney smiled.

Ivy read the next line. “‘I am His’ … uh-oh. That’s a fearsome big word.”

“Daughter,” Laney supplied.

“‘I am His daughter.”’ Ivy bobbed her head and trailed her finger down to the next line. “‘That makes Ivy a pr-prin-cess. Princess. That makes Ivy a …”’

Laney watched in delight as the meaning of the words dawned. “Princess,” she said together with Ivy. “That’s you, Ivy. You’re a daughter of the King of Kings.”

“You done wrote a story in them three lines.”

“I found a passage this morning that I want to share with you. It’s so special, Ivy. It’ll be worth the work of sounding out the words.” Laney turned to the third chapter if Zephaniah. Sliding a bookmark under the beginning of the fourteenth verse, she said, “You start, and I’ll help you if you need me to.”

Ivy bit her lip and then began. “‘Sing, O—”’ She grinned. “O is a real easy word, ain’t it? Too bad they all ain’t that easy. ‘Sing, O daughter of Zion; shout, O Israel; be glad and re-joice with all the heart, O daughter of Jer-oos-all-em. Jerusalem… .

“‘The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty,”’ she continued haltingly; “‘he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing.”’

“I love those verses,” Laney said. “Can you imagine? We’re God’s daughters. He loves us and takes joy in us and sings over us.”

“Makes me wanna tuck them words in my pocket so’s I cain take ’em out and read ’em o’er and o’er.”

“That’s why Christians memorize the Scripture, Ivy. So we can relish God’s words.” Laney tucked the bookmark into the fold of the Bible. “Those words are God’s gift to us.” She turned to the frontispiece. “This Bible is my gift to you. See? Your name is right here.”

Ivy jumped up and dashed toward the door. “If ’n I didn’t hafta pee so bad right now, I’d hug you!”

Mrs. O’Sullivan handed Laney a cup of coffee. “That lass—I can’t help lovin’ her. Because of you, our Laney, she’s coming along nicely.”

“Isn’t it wonderful? Ruth taught me to read, and now I’m teaching Ivy. Some day she’ll help that baby read.”

“There’s a grand thought.”

On her way home, Laney let her mare walk as they went toward the bend in the road where she’d ended up on Christmas Day. Going past that spot always hit her hard.
No matter how glad I
am for Ivy, it still hurts. God, I keep thinking I’ve let go of this, but it keeps
coming back
.

Lost in thought, it took a moment for her to realize a man had stepped out into the middle of the deserted road. Laney tugged back on her reins. In that instant, she knew she’d made a mistake. The stranger drew a gun.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

L
emon drops. It felt silly, buying another man’s wife candy, but Ma swore it would help Ruth. Josh was so grateful, Galen offered to pick up more any time he delivered things to town. Ethel’s brother at the Copper Kettle was happy to buy eggs, fruit, and vegetables again, and Lester not only apologized for his behavior, but actually started paying Galen a little more for the eggs and the goods Ma canned.

Today he’d learned that as of July, Placerville would become the Pony Express’s terminus. Between now and then, he’d still be losing money by running the relay. Rick Maltby had volunteered to broker some kind of deal with the company, but Galen wasn’t holding out any hope of recovering much.

Mulling over matters, he rode around the bend of the path. Seeing a man with a gun drawn on Laney, he shouted, “Hey!”

The stranger wheeled around. As he did, his gun went off. Spooked, Laney’s mare bolted. In that instant, Galen’s wrath turned to cold fear. Her horse was thundering straight toward the ravine.

He spurred his gelding after her. Even then, she was so far ahead, he feared the worst.
God, spare her. Help me. Help me. Spare her.
Spare her
. His heartbeat and the hoofbeats matched the urgent cry of his soul.

The distance between their horses narrowed, but Galen knew nothing short of a miracle would save her. Straining to reach her, Galen hooked his arm about her and jerked her out of her saddle just before his own horse veered to the left and safety. “Are you all right?”

Laney caught her breath, then fretted, “Your arm—did you hurt your arm?”

“My arm’s fine.”

She slumped against him. Galen held her in place and headed toward the Broken P. “Do you know that man? Have you seen him before?”

“No. But he knew me.”

“How?”

“He said—” She shuddered.

Galen tamped down his anger. Laney was already upset enough. “What did he say, Laney? I could see he was talking to you.”

“He knows my name. And he knows Ivy and I are friends. He said—” She took a deep breath and confessed in a rush, “He said the Grubbs owe him money. He figured if they wouldn’t pay up, Josh would.”

“As soon as I get you home, we’ll go after that man.”

“I think you scared him more than he scared us.”

“Impossible.” They stayed silent as he took her home. Her perfume drifted up to him. It was the lemony one she’d worn the day he first noticed she was a woman. Ever since Christmas, she hadn’t worn it. This was the first time since then he’d noticed her wearing it again. He dismounted and helped her down. Loath to let her go, but knowing he must, he growled, “You should wear that other perfume.”

“What?” She gave him a baffled look.

“The oh-you-porcelain one.”

Laney walked away from him, but not before she started laughing like a loon.

Galen shouted for Josh.

Josh took one look at his face and came running. Toledo soon joined them. Galen looked over his shoulder to make sure Laney couldn’t hear him. His voice shook with fury. “A man just tried to kidnap Laney.”

Josh let out a roar.

Galen didn’t pause. There was no time to waste. “Laney said he told her the Grubbs owe him money. Since they haven’t paid, and Ivy and Laney are friends …”

“I’m getting him. When I do, I’ll—”

“Turn him over to the law.” Toledo clapped his hand on Josh’s shoulder. “The sheriff said the thefts started about the time the Grubbs set up the still.”

Galen added, “Which is why he thought Ishmael was behind the robberies. Someone willing to moonshine and rob is bad enough, but now he’s tried to kidnap. Seeing him with a gun on Laney—”

“He had a gun on my sister?!” Josh’s face was bright red.

Toledo’s tone went as harsh as his expression. “None of the women will be safe until we catch that man.”

“I’m going home to make sure Ma and Ivy are safe. I’ll pick up Ishmael. All I have is that one shotgun. Ma can use it. Josh, I want you to loan me two firearms—one for me and the other for Ishmael.”

Josh turned to Toledo. “You stay with Ruth, Laney, and Hilda. I’ll ride along.”

Toledo shook his head. “Boss, I’ll keep an eye on things here, but you’d best get Eddie Lufe. He’s got a stake in this, too.”

Galen took weapons from Josh and rode off. He’d go on this manhunt and get that lowlife. That much he could and would do for Laney. As for Eddie Lufe … Galen suppressed any further thought. He was married to Ivy.

“Laney, you came!” Ivy sat on the edge of the bed and gave her a weak smile.

“You almost got shot once,” Ruth half shouted. “The men have been searching for four days now, and they still haven’t caught that bandit. What did you think you were doing, coming here alone?”

“I didn’t come alone. The minute I came home from town and heard Ivy’s in labor, I rushed right over. Besides, that terrible man has to be long gone by now. Josh even said so at breakfast. The men are back to their usual chores—”

“And still carrying a weapon,” Ruth tacked on. “I still can’t believe you rode over here.”

“I made Toledo bring me. Not that it mattered. If anyone tried to stop me, they’d have lost the fight.” Laney dragged Ruth toward the door. “I’m representing the McCains now. You let Toledo take you home.” Laney wouldn’t take no for an answer and pushed her sister-in-law toward the door.

When Ruth turned around, Laney whispered to Mrs. O’Sullivan, “Ruth shouldn’t see this yet. It’ll scare her. You just tell me what to do, and I’ll see that it’s done.”

Doc arrived. After determining Ivy’s contractions were spaced far apart, he declared, “First labors tend to be significantly longer.” He looked around. “Do you have a clock?”

“Nay,” Mrs. O’Sullivan said.

“I’m wearing a brooch with a clock on it,” Laney said, touching the piece.

“Fine, then. When the pangs are coming three minutes apart, send Galen for me.” He patted Ivy’s arm and left.

“I reckon thar’s no use in me lyin’ round the whole livelong day.” Ivy rolled off the bed.

Mrs. O’Sullivan gave Ivy an approving pat. “That’s right. You stay on your feet. I did with every last one of my birthings, and it made them much easier.”

Laney feared the baby might fall out on his head, but she didn’t say so. Mrs. O’Sullivan ought to know what she was talking about, and Ivy didn’t seem in the least bit concerned.

“You ain’t said nothin’ ’bout my nightdress,” Ivy said as she plucked at the pale pink bodice. “After all that stitchin’ we done, you niver saw me in it.”

“You’re beautiful. Your hairpins might be uncomfortable later.

Would you like me to brush and braid your hair?”

“I wanna leave it up. Want my babe to come into the world and have his first look at his ma bein’ a lady, not a raggedy moonshiner’s daughter.”

“You’re a daughter of the King of Kings. Don’t ever forget that.” Laney knew Ivy loved hearing those words.

“That makes me a princess.” Ivy compressed her lips and held still. Finally, she drew in a shaky breath. “Ma, if ’n I’m a princess, folks cain’t tell me what’s proper, cain they?”

“What do you want to do, Ivy-mine?”

“I wanna go sit in the shade under the sycamore and soak my feet in a bucket of cold water.”

Mrs. O’Sullivan shrugged. “There’s not a reason in the world why you can’t do that.”

“In my nightdress?”

“As long as you have your shawl around you, it’s perfectly proper.” Laney winked at Mrs. O’Sullivan. “If you take Ivy out there, I’ll bring a bucket and a surprise.”