"Oh that, well it was the Christian thing to do," Aurelian shrugged, "And actually young Miss Mudd just needed some warmth, rest, and some nourishing meals to bounce back. Youth are resilient you know."
“That’s very modest of you, but then, good Samaritans usually are modest.” Lee smiled warmly, listening to Aurelian speak, trying in the few short minutes she knew that she would spend with him, to read him, somewhat. She knew a little about him, from what Jacob had told her, second hand from Clara, and from Grandma’s scurrilous and generally hostile gossip: for in truth, Nellie Miggins didn’t even have a good word to say about herself, let alone anybody else. She knew he was a widower, quite recently, too. She wondered if that’s why he’d moved himself and his family out here.
"Besides Clara had made it her personal cause to save that girl, so Miss Mudd would not have dared die. When Clara puts her mind to something, she is a sight to behold," he grinned, it was so obvious the man was very proud of his daughter so some bragging should probably be expected from him.
“Mudd?! Poor girl, what a name!” Leonora couldn’t help laugh, which was a very unchristian thing to do. “But, yes, you must be very proud of Clara: beautiful, intelligent, determined: she will be quite the catch for some young man one day.” She said innocently, dipping her toe in the water to see how cold or warm it might be.
“Oh, Mr. Redmond, how I do run on!” Leonora changed the subject. “What I really wanted to ask you about was more, well, farming advice really. I have been quite unwell for over a year and there is so much needs doing at our place. Jacob does his best, of course, but he cannot control Grandma, and she has made some, well, curious innovations. She thinks all the problems in the world can be solved with barbed wire, shotguns, and yelling. And I am such an ignoramus about these matters. Would you be adverse if I were to call on you sometime… chaperoned, of course… and ask you for some advice?” she asked, those enormous, hypnotic eyes staring unblinking into his.
"Yeah, I know, so do you, I mean, you look beautiful! And of course I’m handsome: every time I read a book and there’s some feller in love in it, he’s always handsome! Now, how about a little kiss for this handsome feller?”
the boy was simply incorrigible.
That didn't mean Clara wouldn't be cooperative, up to a point.
"I guess," she nodded as he put his hands on her waist and made his move.
She welcomed the kiss and pressed it right back with some enthusiasm, she too remembered that time on the lakeshore when they were both naked and...
When the kiss was over, Clara had to say something, it was too important for her not to be able to tell him before this little moment got interrupted by Arabella or the minister or heaven knows who.
"Jacob, I have to tell you something of utmost critical import. I have not had my ...bleed ...since that day."
She dearly hoped he knew what that meant, he was a very bright young man. But if not, she would have to explain it to him for this was potentially disastrous news. For if her foreboding was correct, her life would never be the same.
That’s very modest of you, but then, good Samaritans usually are modest.”
Aurelian shrugged, "I believe it was our late President Lincoln who once said most people have a lot to be modest about. I fit in that category."
"Mudd?! Poor girl, what a name!” Leonora couldn’t help laugh.
He smiled too, "Oh, I've heard worse. In my company in the war, we had a Walter Shitsellburger."
“But, yes, you must be very proud of Clara: beautiful, intelligent, determined: she will be quite the catch for some young man one day.”
"Well, I admit to a rather strong bias but I think you're right. She has only recently become interested in boys to be honest. I mean I know it is all rather inevitable but......a part of me wants her to stay my little girl forever," he smiled.
But of course the woman had not approached for such chat and then revealed her business.
"Farming advice, sure, shoot!" he was most willing to hear her out.
"Well.....I have to tell you I myself would never invest my limited money on barb wire. You do know that ranchers, any ranchers I know hate the stuff. Things could get violent, dangerous if they decide to take it out on your family. Have you already put it up?" Aurelian had a worried look now.
She then surprised him with a request to visit him to discuss farming? And with an escort? Oh lord, not Grandma Miggins, no one should have to have that foul tempered woman under their roof.
"Well, could we just not meet at say...the Lickskillet instead for a meal and a friendly talk?" he decided to suggested, "You would not need an escort there."
"Yes, Dear"
"Jacob, I have to tell you something of utmost critical import. I have not had my ...bleed ...since that day."
He understood immediately. In everyday parlance: she thought she might be pregnant.
He’d been waiting for it, on and off, since that moment on the lakeshore. Not that there wasn’t now numb shock, white faced fear, the vision of a yawning chasm of unavoidable fate widening its maw before him. But he was ready for it, he rode the punch. He was relieved in some ways. He was also, God this was strange, oddly euphoric about the news. She and he were bound now by a knot even tighter than that which had joined them on that muddy shore.
‘Utmost critical import’ he had to smile at that, even amidst the slightly whiting out of his vision and the clamour of blood rushing through his ears. He put his arms around her, and pulled her close to him, his lips at her ear. “I promise you” he whispered breathlessly, like he’d had the wind knocked out of him by a punch to the gut “I will always be with you, for as long as you want me; and I will always love you, and our baby… our babies.” It was no time for half measures, and scared as he was, he knew that she needed him to sound firm, strong and committed to her. In truth, he needed to hear himself being that way, too.
He pulled back a little, so that he could look at her. He smiled reassuringly.
“Listen, if you… miss again. We’ll have to do something about it, I mean, tell someone. Don’t feel…” he frowned, not sure if this was coming out right “… don’t feel this is bad. It’s not, it’s beautiful… it’s what I always dreamed of… being with you. It’s all coming sooner than we might have wanted, but that doesn’t mean it’s not the greatest thing that ever happened to me.” He was talking about himself too much.
“How do you feel?” he asked, squeezing her hands. He didn’t mean physically, he meant emotionally.
He smiled too, "Oh, I've heard worse. In my company in the war, we had a Walter Shitsellburger."
She bit her lip to supress an unladylike smile at this disgraceful sounding name and shook her head. “You’re making that up!” she accused him playfully. “I’m half German and I never heard a name like Sh… well like that one before. Maybe it was his nom de Guerre, in which case more fool him for not picking a better.”
Talk then drifted to Clara, and her accomplishments.
“But, yes, you must be very proud of Clara: beautiful, intelligent, determined: she will be quite the catch for some young man one day.”
"Well, I admit to a rather strong bias but I think you're right. She has only recently become interested in boys to be honest. I mean I know it is all rather inevitable but......a part of me wants her to stay my little girl forever," he smiled.
“My late Papa was just the same, my poor brother-in-law had the Dickens of a time of it when he was courting my sister, Papa used to sit on the stoop with a shot gun waiting for him.” she recalled. Actually, the handsome Mr. Redmond sounded more sensible upon the matter than she might reasonably have expected.
Lee moved the talk to agriculture, and had gotten to the point of getting to go and visit Aurelian at his house, where she hoped to be able to talk more seriously of her concerns and hopes around the growing relationship between her brother and his daughter, when something she said evidently gave him cold feet, though she could guess not what.
"Well, could we just not meet at say...the Lickskillet instead for a meal and a friendly talk?" he decided to suggest, "You would not need an escort there."
“Oh, That would be charming!” she smiled. No it wouldn’t – Clara would be there! The whole point was to talk about the spoony couple out of their earshot, so that some remedial action could be put into effect before anything became too messy. Little did she know that particular boat had been well and truly missed.
Did he actually have a little smile as she made her revelation?
He put his arms around her, and pulled her close to him, his lips at her ear. “I promise you” he whispered breathlessly, “I will always be with you, for as long as you want me; and I will always love you, and our baby… our babies.”
She stood there frozen for just an instant, she still had deeply personal issues about contact such as hugs or even handshakes, and surprisingly it included contact with Jacob even not to mention her father and brother. But she melted into his embrace when she heard his words and could sense the emotion, the honesty in his tone of voice. If she had any fears of him abandoning her to having this child alone, that vanished. She was right about Jacob, he was a good person. And the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.
More emotional people would probably be crying about then but that was not Clara. She did sniffle and whisper, "Thank you, thank you, Jacob."
He pulled back a little, so that he could look at her. He smiled reassuringly.
“Listen, if you… miss again. We’ll have to do something about it, I mean, tell someone. Don’t feel…” he frowned, “… don’t feel this is bad. It’s not, it’s beautiful… it’s what I always dreamed of… being with you. It’s all coming sooner than we might have wanted, but that doesn’t mean it’s not the greatest thing that ever happened to me.”
She knew what he meant, she understood the sentiments behind the words but she wasn't sure she could put it that way. A baby out of wedlock was something that would mark them for life, especially her. The life she had now she could no longer have. The future, even one with him at her side, was going to be hugely challenging, maybe even overwhelming plus they would be responsible for another life which totally depended on them.
"How do you feel?” he asked, squeezing her hands.
"Honestly? I feel very worried and more than a little overwhelmed by all the implications. Our lives are going to change completely. And, once I know for certain....we are indeed going to have to tell people. Your family and mine just for starters. I mean....it is all so much to think about," Clara sighed.
"Yes, Dear"
"How do you feel?” he asked, squeezing her hands.
"Honestly? I feel very worried and more than a little overwhelmed by all the implications. Our lives are going to change completely. And, once I know for certain....we are indeed going to have to tell people. Your family and mine just for starters. I mean....it is all so much to think about," Clara sighed.
He nodded. “It’s a shock and no mistake. I never really imagined what exactly our wedding day would be like, just that I wanted it to happen one day; but I know girls are big on that sort of thing. Well, things might just have to be a little more ‘down home’ that you’d hoped for but … well, I suppose what I‘m saying is, it’s in our hands to be happy or sad about whatever life throws at us.”
As if feeling the need for some philosophical support, he added:
“What did old Abe Lincoln say? ‘People are just about as happy as they make up their minds to be.’ Well, I made up my mind to be happy a long time ago, just so long as I could be with you.”
He wanted to kiss her again, squeeze her, make sure she knew he meant every word he said, but there was suddenly a loud thumping at the door and it opened and Arabella flew in with a cry of “Someone’s coming! It’ll look less fishy if we all come out together!” She panted for breath and looked at them both, especially Clara, with a weird look on her face, sort of a little let down, as if she’d just caught Pastor Evans with his fingers in the collection box for the poor (again). She’d clearly heard. Arabella never usually shut up, but she was silent now as, with a brave little grimace on her face, she dared to break Clara’s touching taboo, and gave her an eloquent little pat on the arm. That pat spoke even more than the pot girl's mouth ever could. It said “Well, turns out my idol had feet of clay after all, but a friend in need is a friend indeed and I’m gonna keep my big mouth shut and my big heart open for you, Clara Anne Redmond.” Or words to that effect.
“Don’t I get a pat on the arm?” asked Jacob.
Arabella used words, rather than gestures this time. “You idiot, Hayseed!” she fired the words at him: it was clear that she held him responsible for this fine kettle of fish. Also, to an extent, herself. She’d introduced them, she should have known that anything she touched would turn to the very opposite of gold.
“You’re making that up!” she accused him playfully. “I’m half German and I never heard a name like Sh… well like that one before. Maybe it was his nom de Guerre, in which case more fool him for not picking a better.”
"Maybe I am remembering it wrong, it was a long time ago, the war, and I've tried to forget most of it," Aurelian admitted with a light shrug. Some sights were burned into his memory forever though.
The woman wished to talk agriculture though and the topic moved to arranging for that rather unexpected discussion. Aurelian did not mind such a meeting but he was damned if he was going to agree to an arrangement that might mean he had to allow the ferocious Granny Miggins inside his home. So instead he suggested the Lick Skillet, the food was good, it was in public and Miss Lutz would need to bring that dried up old harpy along.
"Oh, That would be charming!” she smiled.
"Capital! I don't get into town often but I need to see the blacksmith on Wednesday this week. Would you be able to make it? Not the blacksmith's of course, the Lick Skittle?" he asked amiably.
Clara listened raptly as Jacob said all the right things, it was clear he was determined to stick it out with her and even rather enthusiastic about where it was leading. Marriage. If she really was going to have a baby, the best of all possible outcomes would be for them to be married as soon as possible before she was openly showing, or heaven forbid, already giving birth. Up until this happened, Clara had entertained no serious thoughts about marriage, in fact for a long time felt fated to die a spinster, unappealing to any suitor. Then one dance and one fancy ball dress (not even her own but provided by kindly Emeline) had changed everything. She got herself a boy alright. However she not counted on what soon followed after. They had such fools that afternoon at the swimming hole. And she would certainly not put the blame on Jacob, yes he made the first moves but she went along with it, eagerly even. It was almost sickening to think what a hypocrite she was.
There was suddenly a loud thumping at the door and it opened and Arabella flew in with a cry of “Someone’s coming! It’ll look less fishy if we all come out together!”
Clara stepped back from Jacob an instant protest on her lips, "We were not doing anything improper."
Strangely Arabella was speechless as the girl stared at her. Clara wondered if Arabella somehow knew what had happened? Had she been listening at the door maybe? Something was different with her. But the girl approached and lightly patted the older girl's arm. As in supportive? Now Clara was silent too, not sure what to say.
“Don’t I get a pat on the arm?” asked Jacob.
Arabella used words, rather than gestures this time. “You idiot, Hayseed!” she fired the words at him.
"Please, he is not an idiot. And he's not Hayseed, his name is Jacob," instantly Clara came to his defense, she almost added 'he's going to be my husband' but there was no way she was ready to utter such a declaration out loud yet.
"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
"Please, he is not an idiot. And he's not Hayseed, his name is Jacob," instantly Clara came to his defense, she almost added 'he's going to be my husband' but there was no way she was ready to utter such a declaration out loud yet.
Arabella swivelled her gaze from the boy back to Clara, meeting her gaze clearly and evenly. “I know.” she said, and had Clara completed her sentence she might well have said the same thing. There was something about the two of them, so strangely mismatched to unseeing eyes, that made them belong naturally together. She was the gooseberry standing between two lovers, no matter how helpful she was trying to be, that was who she was now. Out in the cold again.
“Come on” she said, pointing to door “And fer Heck’s Sake, try and look like you’ve been stacking hymn books!!”