Chapter 35

Mira got out of bed quietly when the first rays of sun pushed through the cracks in the chinks to send slivers of light across the room. Gordon, who was almost always up first, was still sound asleep. She didn't know exactly what time he'd come in from Elsinore's, but it had to be past midnight.

She would have stayed in bed to keep from chancing waking him, but nausea was roiling her stomach. On top of that, she needed to know if Ada June had come in. Mira grabbed her wrap and tiptoed to the door. She looked back before she went out of the room. Gordon showed no sign of stirring.

Ada June's cot wasn't rumpled. Tears came to Mira's eyes when she thought about the girl by herself out in the woods. She had been so sure Gordon would bring her home. Home. That's how she wanted Ada June to think of it. Gordon wouldn't be against that. They hadn't talked about giving Ada June a forever home, but he'd fixed the bed for her. He never looked sorry to see her come in the door or be sitting at their table, whether learning to read or sharing their meal.

He might simply consider Ada June a child he needed to help. She was more than that to Mira. Much more. Why hadn't Mira made sure Gordon knew that?

And now this. She ran her hand down over her middle. No baby bulge there. That took a while, she supposed. She needed to tell Gordon her news as soon as he woke up. She didn't want him to hear it from Granny Perry's gossip.

If only her stomach would settle. Maybe if she ate something. She wished for a soda cracker, but those were a treat here, where a person had to travel over the hill back toward Jackson to find a store. An apple would be nice. A crisp juicy apple. She pushed away the thought. By the time apples came on, she'd be well along with this baby.

A slice of Miss Nicey Jane's bread would have to do. Somehow Miss Nicey Jane always had flour for bread. She buttered a slice of the bread, but one bite was all it took to make her race for the door. She barely made it to the edge of the porch before heaving up everything in her stomach. The butter. She should have left off the butter.

She breathed in the cool morning air and leaned against a porch post. The sun slid up over the hill to the east and touched the porch.

She shut her eyes and thought of Elsinore and then Ada June. "Please, Lord." She ought to put more words to the prayer, but she didn't seem to need to say more. The Lord knew.

Bo's bark jerked her away from her prayer thoughts. When she opened her eyes, a small procession led by the dog came across the hollow toward her. Ada June was carrying Selinda. Miss Effie was alongside her, and Mr. Horace was bringing up the rear, packing something that looked too big to carry.

Mira pulled her wrap tighter. Barefoot in her nightgown and robe, she wasn't dressed proper to be out on the porch where anyone might see her, but she didn't run inside. She was covered neck to ankle, and with the sun barely up, a person had a right to still be fresh from bed.

When she tried to swallow the sour taste in her mouth, her stomach lurched. A dry heave brought tears to her eyes. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve and smoothed down her hair before she turned toward them.

"Are you poorly, Miss Mira?" Miss Effie stopped beside the porch and looked up at her. A frown settled between her eyes.

Ada June peered up at Mira too, sorrow written on her face. She didn't say a word, but her carrying Selinda told it all.

"Just a little morning upset. No call for concern." Mira went down the steps, paying no notice of her bare feet on the cool ground. She held her arms out to Ada June and Selinda. "I'm seeing bad news in your face."

Miss Effie took the baby from Ada June before she almost fell into Mira's arms. "I prayed, Miss Mira. I prayed hard, but Elsinore still went on."

Mira tightened her arms around her and kissed her head. "I'm so sorry." She blinked back tears. "You were such a good friend to her."

"She shouldn't have give up like that." Ada June sounded angry.

"Shh, sweetie. Sometimes it's hard to keep fighting when you're so sick." Mira stroked Ada June's hair.

She looked over the girl's head at Miss Effie. Behind her, Mr. Horace shifted the cradle he was carrying and set it on the ground. "I apologize for my appearance," she said.

"Don't fret over that. We come early and you appear to have needed some outdoor air," Miss Effie said.

"Do you need to see Gordon?"

"More to see you, I reckon," Miss Effie said.

Selinda held her little hands out toward Mira, but Mira just smiled at her and kept her arms around Ada June. She was the one who needed the most love right then. The baby was too young to know the sorrow.

Mr. Horace picked up the cradle again and scooted it onto the porch. His face was blotched red. "I need to head on home to see to things. The cows and all."

Miss Effie touched his arm as he moved past her. "Thankee, Horace. Tell Granny I'll be along soon's I finish here to help with what needs doing."

Mr. Horace nodded and turned to shuffle away, his shoulders drooped.

"Poor man." Miss Effie blew out a breath. "Ain't no changin' things now." She glanced down at Mira's bare feet. "We best go in afore you catch a chill."

Mira looked at the cradle. "Do you want me to watch Selinda for a while?"

"A while." Miss Effie's words sounded more like a question than an answer.

Ada June pulled back from Mira. "Elsinore give Selinda to me to raise."

"I see," Mira said, but she didn't see at all. Surely no one would expect a child Ada June's age to take on mothering a baby. But was that how things were here in the hills? A child could just be given to someone?

Miss Effie patted the baby's back and said, "We best talk it out inside."

Mira turned Ada June to go up the steps. Bo was already at the door. Miss Effie followed with Selinda, who babbled as she looked around. Mira wondered how long it had been since the baby had been outside Elsinore's house. Maybe not since she was big enough to take notice of things. What was she now? Seven months. Maybe more like eight. She would barely fit in the cradle.

Inside, all was quiet. Gordon must be still asleep in spite of Bo's bark earlier and the sound of talking out front.

Mira gave Ada June a hug and turned her loose. "I'll go tell Gordon you're here."

"Might be good for us to talk a minute first. Woman to woman." Miss Effie handed the baby to Mira and poked up the fire before she laid a piece of wood on the flames. "Ada June, come on over here and warm yourself."

Ada June stayed where Mira had left her, a lost look on her face. Miss Effie's voice gentled then. "You will get through this, child. Same as you got through all the other sad times you've known."

Without saying anything, Ada June moved toward the fire. When she sat down on the floor, Bo laid his head in her lap.

Miss Effie narrowed her eyes on the girl and went on sternly. "I ain't havin' you go silent agin on me."

Ada June didn't look up at her, but she mumbled, "Yes'm."

"That's good." Miss Effie patted her head and turned her attention to Mira. "You come on over here too, Miss Mira. You look in need of a chair."

Mira almost parroted Ada June's "yes ma'am" as she sat down in the rocker. They were in Mira's house, but Miss Effie was the one in control. Something like Miss Nicey Jane usually was, but despite Miss Effie's lack of smiles, somehow Mira felt easier with her and less judged as coming up lacking. She could say what she was thinking to Miss Effie.

"Expecting Ada June to take care of a baby is expecting too much of someone so young." When Mira rocked the chair, Selinda giggled and rested her head against Mira's chest.

"My ma passed on when I was twelve." Miss Effie stayed standing by the fire. "Left a newborn and three others younger than me. Weren't easy, but we made out till Pa married again. I was about to marry myself by then."

"I'm not sure that compares to Ada June." Mira looked over at the girl, who kept her eyes on Bo as she stroked him head to tail.

"I reckon not. Just sayin' things can be different here in the hills. But Ada June don't have a pa to supply for her." Miss Effie looked straight at Mira. "Elsinore was thinkin' she had you. Was she thinkin' right?"

Doubts bombarded Mira. Could she handle two babies so close together? How would she be able to teach? What would Gordon think? Was it right for them to put the burden of being responsible for an infant on a child?

Selinda put her little hand on Mira's cheek at the same time as Ada June turned begging eyes up to her. That didn't make the potential difficulties disappear, but only one answer had ever been in her heart and mind. "I'll do whatever Ada June and Selinda need."

Ada June scooted over to lean against Mira's legs. "Elsinore knew you would."

"You've got a lovin' heart," Miss Effie said. "A fine thing for a preacher's wife."

Gordon. She shouldn't have answered before she talked to him. After all, she was promising that he would take on two children along with his on the way. But they had already the same as taken in Ada June. Still, she shouldn't have promised for him. She would have no way of caring for Ada June and Selinda without him.

She swallowed down her panic. He wouldn't say no. His heart was more loving than hers. He proved it every day.

Miss Effie, now that she had the answer she needed, moved one of the other chairs over to sit beside Mira. "How far along are you?"

"I ... I don't know." She mentally shook her head. She needed to come up with a better answer if people kept asking her that. "I hadn't even considered that I could be any along until Granny Perry asked me that yesterday."

For the first time since she'd brought news of Elsinore, Miss Effie's face relaxed in a smile. "I reckon with the first one it can come on as a surprise."

Ada June jumped up so fast Bo yelped. A smile was across her face too. "You're having a baby, Miss Mira?"

What could Mira do but smile along with them? "So it appears."

Sometimes sorrow and joy could show up at the same time in a person's life.

Something woke Gordon. He reached over to Mira's side of the bed. She wasn't there. The sun was up since light was pushing through the cracks in the chinking that he made a mental note to repair every morning. So far that chore hadn't been done. Mira said there wasn't a hurry. She liked how the morning light sneaked in.

The room was dark when the door was shut, the way it was now. He should have insisted on a window in here, even if the men building the cabin said it would let in too much winter cold. A window could be sealed with putty to keep the wind out. He could buy the glass and cut a hole for a window yet. His church people would understand it was for Mira.

Every day he tried to think of something to please her, to make her not sorry she'd come to Sourwood. To make her not want to return to where life was easier. Where water came through a pipe and not out of a bucket from a spring or a creek. Where she didn't have to cook over an open fire in pots hung on hooks. Where she could go to a store and buy food and not be dependent on the charity of neighbors.

He could do that. Take her back to the city. Give up his mission. He had thought bringing a teacher to Sourwood would be the answer to prayer. It was. The school was well attended. The children were learning. But he couldn't stop worrying about that teacher's happiness.

She had never once said she was unhappy. Perhaps because he was afraid to ask, afraid to know for sure that she was sorry she had come to Sourwood. She had embraced the children and the job of teaching, but she was so small and fragile.

Not that she hadn't seemed perfectly fine until the last week. Perhaps her fatigue was due to her worry about Elsinore and her baby. She had become very attached to them.

He berated himself for sleeping past his usual rising time. He always intended to be up first to get the fire going and have water heating before Mira came out of the bedroom. Today she must have gone out in her dressing gown. Her dress was draped over the bench, with her shoes and stockings on the floor beside it. She probably tiptoed out to keep from waking him.

He was adjusting his suspenders when he heard voices in the next room. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on his shoes. Perhaps it was only Ada June, but no, that was a woman's voice. Effie Foster. No doubt with news of Elsinore. His heart sank. Early morning visitors rarely brought good news.

He ran a comb through his hair and pulled on his jacket. He had just pulled open the door an inch when he heard Ada June asking about a baby. Not Elsinore's baby. Mira's baby. His baby.

Convoluted feelings swept through him. Surprise. Joy. Unbelief. Worry. The worry overcame the joy. Hadn't he just been thinking about how fragile she seemed? In the mountains, he had been at the bedside of more than one mother losing her life bearing a child.

"Trust in the Lord and have faith." He whispered the words.

God's will. He had to believe in God's will and his love for his children. For Gordon. For Mira. For this baby being knitted by the Lord in Mira's womb.

For certain, he believed in prayer. He would storm heaven with prayers for this woman he loved and the baby they had made together.

But why had she told others before she told him? Did she not trust him to be happy about a baby? Trust him to take care of her?

He needed to quit tormenting himself with questions. He'd ask for answers when they were alone.

As soon as he stepped through the door, Ada June danced toward him, her dog circling her. "You're gonna be a papa." A smile lit up her face.

Miss Effie was smiling too, as much as Miss Effie ever smiled. "Reckon you need to get your sleep whilst you can, Preacher."

"I suppose so." No need letting on that a baby on the way was a surprise.

Mira kept her face down as she rocked Selinda. He kept his gaze on her until at last she peeked up at him, a flush running across her cheeks. She didn't say anything about a baby. Instead, she said, "They brought sad news, Gordon."

Ada June's smile disappeared as her shoulders drooped. "Your prayers weren't good enough, Preacher Gordon. Elsinore passed on."

He put his hand on her shoulder. "She's in a better place."

Anger flashed across Ada June's face. "It don't seem right. Selinda won't have even a whisper of a memory of her ma."

"You can tell her stories about her. Help her remember," Gordon said.

"Nobody ever tells me stories about my ma." She jerked away from him.

"Don't act up, Ada June." Miss Effie called her down.

Ada June glared at her. "Well, it's true. Nobody ever says nothing about my ma 'cepting bad things."

Mira stood up, handed the baby off to Miss Effie, and grabbed Ada June in a hug. "Shh."

Ada June fought her for a couple of seconds and then collapsed against her.

"You can remember the good things and tell them to me," Mira whispered into Ada June's hair. "And we'll remember good things to tell Selinda about her mother. All right?"

Ada June nodded.

Mira looked over at Gordon. "It seems we've been chosen to help Ada June take care of Elsinore's baby."

"Are you sure you're up to it?" Gordon asked.

"I'm up to it," Mira said.

"And teach?"

"The older children will help," Mira said.

Miss Effie looked across the room at him. "Might be I can come down and sit in on the school. I reckon I can listen whilst I tend to Selinda so's Billy Ray won't get so far ahead of me in learning he won't pay me no mind."

Ada June turned toward him. "Elsinore give me her baby to raise, but she aimed for you and Miss Mira to help me."

"She did," Miss Effie said. "You heared her say that very thing, Preacher."

"Please," Mira whispered.

There was never any answer but yes. But at the same time a worry tickled him when he looked at Mira and Ada June. "We can see to her. We'll be more than glad to. But it could be some of her family might come for her."