Enchanted Heart (39 page)

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Authors: Brianna Lee McKenzie

BOOK: Enchanted Heart
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***

Slowly, slowly, light crept into the slits that covered Marty’s eyes. She groaned in painful realization that her heavy and limp body had yet again rejected another baby. Suddenly remembering the painful reason for that repudiation, she tried to sit up to leave the bed and look for her beloved Caid. Strong hands held her into the pillow, or was it her weakness that sent her crashing back into unconsciousness?

It mattered not to her. Darkness was her sanctuary, her saving grace. It embraced her with loving arms and she accepted that reverence wholeheartedly, almost pleadingly. It held her in a swirling trance that bound her in an ever-darkening state of oblivion where no grief, no sadness and no pain existed. She found herself clinging to that void, that blissful abyss of vacuity that filled her with the numbing murmur of a constant buzz that drowned everything out but its deafening drone. A monotony of nothingness. Eradicating yet comforting. Her compassionate companion, Death.

For weeks, she subconsciously struggled with the quandary of whether to give up and die or to fight for her life. For hours on end, she heard a familiar voice calling to her from far, far away, begging her to take the latter path. But, she ignored that voice and she continued to drift on an endless cycle of conscious sanity and mindless madness, a circling battle between her soul’s desire to escape and her body’s need to survive.

Finally, to her heart’s disappointment, she opened her eyes and saw her sister sitting beside her, holding her hand. For an instant, Greta’s smile made her happy to be alive, but that happiness faded when she remembered the sadness that would follow her for the rest of her life and she wished, at that moment, that she could have died.

“There you are,” Greta said with a warm, loving smile as she pulled Mama’s quilt up to rest beneath Marty’s chin. “We thought we’d lost you.”

“I wish,” Marty mumbled under her breath, but did not repeat the remark when Greta asked her to.

“We have to get you well, Sister,” Greta said with exuberance in her voice as she fluffed the pillow behind Marty’s head.

Marty stared away at the window, her heart falling once more at the thought of never seeing Caid again. Tears streamed down her face, dripping onto the pillow beneath her head and she could not stop the terrible sobbing that took over her body.

Greta pulled her sister into her arms and hugged her, wishing that she could take Marty’s pain away. But, she was powerless to do anything that would mend the broken heart that beat sadly inside her sister’s chest.

“Where am I?” Marty asked when she looked around and saw the strange surroundings.

“At our house,” Greta said while she shrugged her slender shoulders. “This was my old room, remember?”

Nodding, Marty recalled the days that she had sat in that very chair holding Greta’s hand while she healed after the wagon accident and after Buck had saved her sister’s life. That seemed like so long ago…

“Why did you bring me here?” Marty asked, looking past Greta at Buck, who stepped forward to answer.
“We couldn’t let you die,” his voice boomed in the room.
“Why not?” Marty heard herself saying and she immediately regretted saying it aloud.
“Because we love you,” Greta said, squeezing her sister’s hand.
“But, you have Buck and soon, you’ll have Seraphina and the baby,” Marty said sadly. “I have no one to love.”
“Nonsense,” Buck growled as he sauntered over to her and towered above her. “You have us.”
A weak smile pressed Marty’s lips together and she nodded with a single word that she managed to say, “Yes.”

Greta patted her sister’s hand and told her, “You’ve been lying here for weeks. If it wasn’t for the transfusion, you would have died.”

“Transfusion?” Marty asked, for she had no idea what the word meant and why such a thing would save her life.

Buck explained, “It’s where blood from a donor is transfused into your body. We had lots of volunteers. But Josie insisted, since she finally realized that love really does exist.”

“Josie?” Marty asked, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well, she and old Tyree Parnell have somehow found each other irresistible and they are head-over-heels in love!” Buck announced.

“Josie?” Marty asked incredulously, her voice rising a bit. “And Tyree?”

“Yep.” Buck nodded as he continued, “He and Josie went and got married.”

“I don’t believe that,” Marty scoffed. “Josie hates men. She told me herself that she’d never trust another one. And Tyree didn’t love me. He was just using me as a conquest.”

“That could be,” he mused. Then his face lit up when he thought of another solution, “Or maybe he was using you to make Josie jealous!”

“No!” Marty said flatly. “He hated her! And she hated him! There was more than one time that she pointed her shotgun at him.”

But it was true. They were married in Paris where they honeymooned for over a month. Josie, having slipped away in embarrassment that she had gone and married a man after professing her undying hatred for them, had left the note for Marty without an explanation of the reason for her trip. After they returned, Tyree moved into Josie’s house and immediately removed the sign that refused the entrance of his type of human being and he threw it straight into the woodpile. Josie went to work in the store, which was renamed Josie Parnell’s Mercantile, for Tyree had deeded it to her. Josie’s fine dresses were beginning to be displayed in the window for all to admire and to purchase and soon, her expertise was known throughout the Texas Hill Country.

The newlyweds had come to visit her at Buck and Greta’s home but she had been unconscious and barely recuperating from losing so much blood, which the transfusion of Josie’s blood had aided in her recovery. She had no recollection of their kind words or their happy announcement. All she remembered was Josie’s hateful words, “Men are like dogs.”

“Corn and carrots,” Buck interrupted her thoughts.

He tilted his head with knowing observation but both women looked at him with confused expressions on their faces. He explained his belief, “Corn grows high on the stalk. Carrots are root vegetables. They are exact opposites in the garden, but they taste good together on the plate.”

“What a peculiar notion that those two are in love,” Marty said. Then, she folded her arms in front of her body and said, “Well, if that is what makes them both happy.”

“I guess things tend to work themselves out in the end,” Greta pondered aloud.

Marty drew in a sad breath, wishing that things could have worked out for her. But, she was destined for distress, no matter which path that she took, it always seemed to lead to heartache. She looked at her sister and Buck and let her breath out in a long, wavering sigh before she said, “I’m tired.”

“Of course,” Greta said as she rose to leave the room. “You get some rest. Soon, you’ll be back on your feet.”

Marty smiled even though she did not feel like showing any emotion other than remorse for being brought back to life by transfusion or any other method. And she lay in that bed for days, hoping that her body would give up the fight and let her find her way to Heaven to be with her husband and babies. Yes, she knew that Caid was dead. What else could keep him from running back to her?

 

 

 

Chapter Forty

 

But, as the days turned into weeks, she became more and more healthy and soon she was sitting at the dining room table with Greta, Buck and Linda. Every once in awhile, she would get a feeling that living was not so bad after all and she would laugh with them in spite of her depressed disposition.

Life all around her seemed to go on, she found as she woke up each morning and faced yet another day of loneliness. Outside her window, trees produced fruit, baby birds left their nests and waves of bluebonnets swayed in the breeze, making the field beyond the stream remind her of the deep blue ocean that she had crossed as a child, and ultimately, it reminded her of the day that Caid had explained the legend behind those beautiful blue flowers. What a sacrifice Marty had made when she’d lost her husband and then the child growing inside her, she thought sadly as she turned away from the cheerful sight of the flowing field of blue. But rain in the form of tears seemed to be the only reward for her sacrifice besides the horrible hunger of loneliness that ate away at her unfortunate heart.

Inside the house, Greta’s belly grew ever larger, Buck grew more in love with his wife and Linda Blue Sky found a puppy on their doorstep, a bouncy reminder that life in its blissful existence carries on and all one has to do is embrace it, nurture it and love it.

But for Marty, it all carried on around her. For her, the perception that life still went on was obscure; in fact, she could not understand why it so cruelly did. She still wished that hers had ended as had the lives of her husband and children. For her, life had no meaning at all.

But, still, it went on whether she liked it or not. One afternoon, they were all sitting on the back porch, conversing and sometimes listening to the stream that flowed behind the house. Marty watched Buck gently press a large hand onto Greta’s belly and then bent to kiss the rounded mound. Greta ran her fingers through her husband’s hair while smiling down at him with love in her eyes. Linda Blue Sky tried to teach her puppy to sit for a treat but was disappointed with the outcome. The gangly black puppy seemed to want to jump as high as it could in order to cover her face with slobbery licks.

Then, the puppy turned toward Marty to jump into her lap and cover her face with dog slime, as her mind called it. But she patted the puppy on the head and coaxed it back onto the porch again, saying, “Good boy!”

For some inexplicable reason, the puppy looked at her as if he respected her and it sat on its haunches, wagging its tail and expecting a treat for its efforts. But a pat on the head was all he received, and surprisingly, a pat was enough to make him happy. Marty smiled at the dog and thought of Caid and his genuine love for animals and her heart crumbled. She tried hard not to cry in the presence of the family that had moved on while she still lingered in the misery of her loss.

Despondently, she looked beyond the love that seemed to pass around the porch to the field that offered a recollection of her own lost love. She watched the bluebonnets bob in the breeze while she tried hard to keep her memories of her life with Caid from fading away. Wistfully, she sighed and unconsciously massaged her empty belly while she turned her head back toward her sister. In spite of her sadness, a smile creased her face when she saw the love that Greta shared with Buck.

“It won’t be long now,” Marty told them, receiving a nod from both.

“My little girl will be the most beautiful girl in the world,” Buck boasted as he stared lovingly into his wife’s light blue eyes.

Greta smiled at Buck and asked, “And what if it’s a boy?”

Buck stroked his clean-shaven chin and contemplated the notion for a bit. Thoughts of having a son with a high probability of inheriting hemophilia darted into his mind but he pushed them aside. They would face that adversity when and if it happens. He smiled at the thought of a son with his wife’s auburn hair and light blue eyes before he replied, “Then he’ll be the most beautiful boy in the world!”

Everyone laughed including Linda, who whirled around the porch with her puppy bouncing around her. She narrowed her eyes at the young dog and said sternly, “Sit!”

But still, the dog refused to follow her command. Hiding her embarrassment, and changing the subject, Linda uttered to Greta and Buck, “He will be strong.”

They all agreed, thinking that she was referring to the puppy but, secretly, she knew that the boy that Greta carried would be healthy despite his family traits. She knew, too, that Mr. Caid was well and was trying to make his way back to Mrs. Marty. But she knew better than to get the woman’s hopes up. She had been wrong before when she had ‘seen’ Mrs. Marty with a baby daughter in her arms. That had ended in an unfortunate heartache for the woman and Linda Blue Sky did not want her friend to be sad anymore.

Before she could consider it further, they heard a child’s voice calling through the house from the front porch. She jerked her head toward the voice and again, she recalled a vision of a little girl with springy blond curls and she knew to whom the voice belonged.

Immediately, Greta knew it was her daughter and, against reprimands from her sister and her husband, she jumped up to limp to Seraphina and take her into her arms. Elsa and her husband and children burst into the house and hugged everyone, even Buck.

“We found your wagon on our way here and we brought some of your things!” Elsa told Marty and Greta, who were unconcerned about having their belongings again. For Greta, having Seraphina home was more important to her than mere worldly possessions. And for Marty, those things did not seem essential in her lonely life now. To her, all they represented were memories, reminders of the loss of the one thing that she had cherished, her precious love, her husband Caid.

When the excitement lulled, Greta introduced Seraphina to her new father. The little girl looked up at the grizzly man and smiled, raising her arms to invite him to lift her into a bear hug. Seraphina hugged Buck’s thick neck and nuzzled his square chin while Greta hugged them both.

Marty watched Greta, her husband and their daughter cling together in a tight entanglement of family love and she could take no more, for her jealousy of her sister’s happiness, her anger at her own fate and her grief for all that she had lost was just too much to bear. Turning her face so that the others could not see her tears, she excused herself and walked calmly out the back door and over the porch where she began to run toward the barn. She shut the door behind her and dove into a heap of hay where she curled up into a ball and cried.

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