Lady in the Mist - Laurie Alice Eakes [42]
“Yes, I know. I’ve explained this to Mrs. Belote and to Sally.” He stopped and faced her. “And have been praying.”
Tabitha said nothing. She kept her face blank.
“You think that’s useless,” he said.
“Maybe not for you, sir. For me . . .” She shrugged. “God abandoned me a long time ago.”
“God never abandons us, Tabitha.” Downing’s voice held a note of sorrow. “But we too easily abandon Him.”
“I didn’t.” She allowed an edge to sharpen her tone. “I prayed every day for six months for Raleigh to come home. I prayed every day and night and in between for my mother to live.”
So she wouldn’t have to feel the guilt of her own responsibility for her mother’s illness.
“I prayed for Grandmomma to be relieved of her pain,” she continued ruthlessly. “And she died.”
“Where she is free from her pain.” Downing gave her a gentle smile. “And Raleigh came home.”
“And my mother is dead.” Tabitha’s throat closed. “I had to work instead of getting married like every other girl my age.”
“But you were experienced enough to take care of Seabourne when the apothecary died so unexpectedly last year.”
“So I get to tend the hands of impudent bondsmen and deliver other women’s babies while being treated like a redemptioner myself.”
“And what would have happened had Raleigh gotten his desire to wander after you married? And he’s back now, just as you prayed for, and from what he says so openly that I’m not breaking a confidence, he’s had more than enough of the sea except for fishing.”
“But I can’t trust him now.” Tabitha turned on her heel and began to stride toward the house.
Downing easily fell into step beside her. “Can you trust any suitor not to leave you?”
“Probably not.”
Which was why she needed to stop waking in the middle of the night with the memory of Dominick’s kiss in her head. On her lips. If any man would leave her, he would. She was nothing more than a diversion, an excuse to be where he shouldn’t be. In four years, he would sail back to England.
“Then how do you expect to have the husband and children you want?” Downing cast her a warm smile. “If you can’t trust God, you can’t trust anyone, and if you can’t trust anyone, you can’t enjoy their love.”
“I trusted God once upon a time.”
“Good. Then you can trust Him again.”
“I . . . doubt it.”
They reached the front door and Tabitha bade good day to the pastor. She wouldn’t go in by the door used for guests again.
Later that night, while trying to sleep and not see Dominick’s velvety brown eyes every time she closed her lids, she pondered her conversation with the pastor. Perhaps matters were reversed. If she could, for example, trust Raleigh again, she could renew her childhood relationship with the Lord. The best way to trust Raleigh again was to spend more time with him. Of course, that could make it awkward to spend time with Dominick to find out what he was up to, if it was indeed no good for America.
She would have a bit of extra time on her hands. Summer didn’t see the birth of as many babies. Too many men were gone oystering on the Chesapeake or fishing in the autumn. Spring and autumn proved her busy time due to long winter nights and summer weddings. She could manage two suitors, if suitors they were.
An unexpected thought crept into her head right before she finally slept—maybe this year she would go to the Midsummer Festival.
A wholly inhuman shriek woke her. Her feet hit the floor and she had her dress half over her head before her eyes opened. She knew that kind of cry.
Sally Belote was in labor.
Unless she was a complete coward or in a weakened condition, she was well along in labor.
Tabitha took the steps two at a time and followed the cries to the girl’s chamber. For once, the door stood open. Cookie, Abigail, and Mrs. Belote circled the bed, the first two looking like they were praying, the latter wringing her hands.
Golden-blonde hair soaked with perspiration and blue eyes dull, Sally writhed on the bed.
“Why didn’t someone call me sooner?” Tabitha demanded.
“You weren’t needed.” Mrs.