Hanging from the ceiling beams with chicken wire around her neck, Tamara’s dangling body hovered above them.
Shawna ran into the room after hearing Jobeth’s screams and collided with Tamara’s swaying body. The chicken wire had cut deep into her skin causing blood to drip from her neck. Some landed on Shawna’s face. Unable to stop herself, Shawna gazed up in horror into Tamara’s bulging, dead eyes and fainted. Alan instantly lifted the small limp body and took her from the horrible scene. Jobeth stood, frozen, staring at the swinging corpse in disbelief.
The baby was crying from behind Tamara’s frame. Snapping out of her shock, Jobeth squeezed past the corpse’s hanging legs, trying in vain not to touch the bloody body.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” Jobeth cooed, lifting the sobbing infant to her. The baby buried her head in Jobeth’s shoulder, calmed by the familiar voice.
“Jobeth?” Alan shouted from outside the room.
“I’m in here, Alan,” Jobeth called back, rocking baby Joy. She couldn’t turn toward his voice. To do so would mean facing those dreadful swaying legs.
“Are you all right?” Alan asked, appearing beside Tamara’s hanging body.
Jobeth shook her head, refusing to look his way. She kissed the top of the baby’s soft black hair and fought back the urge to cry.
“Alan?” she asked, not knowing what else to say. “Now what?”
“Pass me the baby, Jobeth.” Alan said, reaching out his hands. Jobeth walked over and placed Joy into his arms. The baby stretched out her hand and grabbed instinctually onto the hem of Tamara’s nightgown, causing the body to teeter on the wire that suspended her.
“No, Joy!” Jobeth pulled the baby’s hand roughly away, causing her to wail.
“Get out of there, Jobeth,” Alan beseeched, reaching a hand toward her.
Jobeth took it, pinching herself through the doorway again, careful not to touch Tamara.
When she was safely through, Alan handed the baby back.
“Go to Shawna. She needs you. This is going to mess her up for a long time,”
Alan raked his hand through his hair, clenching his teeth.
“Damn her . . .
Damn her for doing this to Shawna . . . to us.”
“Alan?” Jobeth asked, lost beside his shoulder. He shifted around and grasped her and the baby in his arms.
“Don’t worry, Jobeth. I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of everything.” He kissed her forehead and looked into her bloodshot eyes.
Jobeth was trying hard to hold herself together.
“Go to Shawna. Go.” He gently turned her in the direction of the other room down the hall. Jobeth, clutching the baby tightly, went in a daze to Shawna.
Alan began the gruesome chore of taking Tamara’s body down from the beams. He wrapped her in a clean sheet and laid her on the floor. Arrangements would have to be made to bury her. He would say she died of a broken heart after losing her husband before the baby was born. No one needed to know that Tamara had killed herself. As he started to clean up the blood that had dripped onto the floor, Alan noticed a piece of paper on the night table. He lifted it up and started to read it. His shoulders shook, overcome with emotion, as he read Tamara’s last words, sad now that Jobeth and Shawna had started teaching her to read and write.
Tamara was buried in the town cemetery, inside the church graveyard. The lie Alan and Jobeth told about Tamara’s death would keep her out of the shunned cemetery. They could not stand the thought of Tamara spending eternity disdained as she was in life.
Jobeth’s friends were at the burial, proclaiming their regrets over her family’s loss. She thanked them, clinging to Tamara’s orphaned child and to Shawna’s ghostly pale hand. They exited the cemetery, huddled together, getting strength from one another.
Shawna could not sleep at night anymore. Nightmares plagued her. Tamara had left them all scared.
“It will be all right, Jobeth,” Alan said, clutching her shoulder. Jobeth nodded in response.
“I will be fine as long as I have you and the girls.”
“She left a note about the baby, Jobeth.”
“Alan, I just can’t right now. I am too angry with her to listen to what she had to say. What she did to Shawna . . . to the baby . . . to us.” Jobeth waved her hand in the air dismissively.
“When you’re ready then.” Alan kissed her cheek warmly.
“I don’t know when I will be ready. She left Joy, mother- and fatherless. She left Shawna haunted.” Jobeth shook her head frustrated. “I am angry, Alan. Very angry.”
“I understand.”
Later that evening at dinner, Jobeth looked across the table at Alan. He ate his portion of roast chicken silently. The baby was asleep in Jobeth and Shawna’s room.
It had been a long day and she felt emotionally exhausted.
She watched Shawna pick at her food. The little girl had not spoken since she walked innocently into Tamara’s lifeless form. Jobeth reached across the table and grabbed hold of Shawna’s hand, searching for a response from the catatonic child. Shawna did nothing but continue to stare at her uneaten food.
“Okay . . . I will read the letter.” Jobeth’s eyes did not waver from Shawna’s pale face.
Both Alan and the child looked up together and gaped at Jobeth unexpectedly.
Alan quickly pushed back his chair and stood up, absentmindedly dropping his napkin onto the table after wiping his mouth. He left the room and returned quickly holding a piece of paper with childish handwriting on it.
Unfolding the paper, he cleared his throat.
“Do you want me to read it to you?” Alan asked.
Shawna’s hand silently crept into Jobeth’s. She felt the faint squeeze of the little knobbly digits.
“I think we both need you to read it to us, Alan,” Jobeth said reassuringly squeezing Shawna’s hand back.
“Dear Jobeth and Alan,” he began “I know you ain’t gonna understand my doin’ of this. You ain’t the same people as me. I just tired of this world. I don’t
wanna be here no more. I ain’t the motherin’ type and I don’t wanna be no one’s ma. You folks will be good for the kid. Give her a home I never knew. She will have a chance in this life if you are her kin. She will be a whore if I raise her up. It’s true. My ma was one and I done my share of hustling, but I ain’t claimed to be no saint. Thanks for taking me in and calling me family. I know it cost you lots. Don’t tell the kid about me. Let her think you was always her folks. Give her a good name. I kinda like Joy.
Tamara.”
Alan folded the letter back up and grimly looked at Shawna and Jobeth. The child began to sob: the first signs of emotion since the whole incident began.
Both Jobeth and Alan went to her, comforting her, cradling her protectively in their arms. Over Shawna’s blonde silky hair Jobeth looked into Alan’s red-rimmed eyes.
Shawna was not alone in her suffering. Jobeth cupped Alan’s unshaven face with the palm of her hand. His warmth heated her palm and she felt overcome with emotion.
“We can’t stay here,” Jobeth’s voice trembled, barely above a whisper.
“No.” Alan choked, cupping her hand to his mouth. He breathed heavily into the moist flesh, then bent down and gently kissed the top of Shawna’s head. Shawna turned her hollowed, tear-streaked face up to his, her lips quivering.
“I just want to go away from that room,” Shawna wept. “I keep seeing her . . .”
“Shhh,” Alan soothed, stroking her long soft hair. “Everything is going to be all right.”
“Promise?” Shawna sniffed, rubbing her swollen blue eyes. They were so light they seemed almost transparent in color. Only a hint of sky blue circled her pupils.
“Yes, I promise. Nothing bad is going to happen to my three girls again,” Alan said with determination. He meant it. He would rather die than see the women in his life hurt any more. They had all been hurt too much already in their short lives. Even Tamara’s little baby. She
had already experienced the loss of both her parents. It was odd, but Alan felt more like he was the baby’s father than Oliver. Jobeth was definitely more of a mother than Tamara. His heart thumped thinking of the baby as his and Jobeth’s. It felt so right, so very right.
“We have to sell the house, Alan. We can’t raise the baby here. Everyone knows about Tamara,” Jobeth said. “She would never have a normal life here. Everyone would know.”
“We will.”
It took awhile before the house was sold. Jobeth and Alan tried to bring things back to normal in their home for the children’s sakes, but the once cozy home that had brought them so much joy and security was now cold and foreign. They could not wait to leave it and its ghosts behind.
All three agreed on naming the baby Mara-Joy.
Mara after her birth mother, Tamara. They all felt since the baby would never know Tamara or the person she was, the child should have at least a piece of the name of the woman who had given her life.
When they were finally on their way again, in another little covered wagon, Jobeth wondered, as Shawna sat between her and Alan, where would their lives lead them now?
Mara-Joy cooed sitting in her arms and Jobeth gave her a gentle, loving squeeze. Alan looked at Mara-Joy and smiled as he ruffled Shawna’s hair. She playfully pushed his hand away and laughed a little. That was a good sign.
Shawna had not laughed in ages. With time she would heal. Jobeth was sure of it. They all would be fine, as long as they had each other.
They traveled all day until the sun began to fade behind the hills. Alan pulled up to a little church isolated in a thicket of bushes. Jobeth, startled out of her thoughts, looked up at him questioningly.
“Alan?” she asked, completely confused. She looked around. All she could see was green emptiness. There were no buildings she could make out except for the church in front of them. There were barely any trees around, just a few skinny poplars with some meager leaves clinging to them.
Alan stepped down from the wagon and bent down on one knee. Shawna covered her mouth, but could not stifle a little giggle. Jobeth suddenly felt awkward and silly. She looked around to see why Alan was kneeling before her.
Trembling Alan lifted his arms up to her, his green cat eyes wavering with emotion. Jobeth gazed at him, her hands clasped tightly around the plump baby.
“Jobeth, I know I’m not perfect and you could do better than me . . .” Alan stammered, so afraid of what she would say. He had been planning this since he sold the house. He knew they would pass this church and had made all the arrangements days before. “But . . . Oh, hell,” he flustered, jumping up and running his fingers threw his hair. He turned his back away from Jobeth. This was his last chance. He could no longer put it off. Alan spun around and seized Jobeth’s hand, causing her to let out a surprised yelp.
“Will you marry me?” he asked, his eyes filled with love and tears. Jobeth sat silently, mouth open. “We could be good parents . . .” he continued, not daring to stop. “Ask Shawna, she knows better than anyone.” Shawna continued to cover her smile with her hands.
“Do you have anything to do with this?” Jobeth asked, unable to say anything else. She was totally taken off-guard. Never had she expected Alan to propose marriage to her.
Shawna shrugged and started to chuckle. The black under her eyes faded for a moment and light seemed to shine from her blue-gray orbs.
“Will you, Jobeth? You know I love you,” Alan begged, still holding tight to her hand, he clasped it to his lips and held his breath afraid to move.
Jobeth continued to stare into Shawna’s large eyes.
“I would be a fool if I said no.” Jobeth smiled, feeling in her heart she was right.
“We will be one big, happy family,” Shawna said, smiling faintly. “The mama and the papa and the two
sisters.”
Jobeth put her arm protectively around Shawna’s young shoulders.
“Do you want Alan and me to be your mama and papa?” Jobeth asked, watching tears well up in Shawna’s dazzling clear eyes.
“You already are my mama and papa,” she said earnestly.
Jobeth kissed Shawna’s warm forehead, feeling her heart would break for love of the child. She turned to Alan, her hand still held tightly in his.
“Alan, I love you so much. It would be an honor to marry such a wonderful man.” Jobeth leaned over, trying not to squish the baby.
“Pass me Mara-Joy,” Shawna said, reaching for the baby. The infant whined in protest, angered over losing Jobeth’s attention.
“Hush now, Mara-Joy. Your mama needs to be with your papa right now,” Shawna soothed, rocking the baby. She wiggled in Shawna’s arms for a moment then stopped as Shawna continued to rock back and forth.
Jobeth jumped down from the wagon with Alan’s help and hugged him tightly to her.
“Why are we at this church, Alan? Do you plan to get married right now?” Jobeth asked, planting a kiss on his lips.
“Yes. As of this day you will be my wife officially. No more make-believe. Marry me now, Jobeth,” Alan said again, forcefully, as he got down on one knee once again. He withdrew a small gold band from his pocket, and held it out to her.
Jobeth took the ring and placed it on her finger. It fit perfectly.
“Yes, Alan . . . yes, I will marry you now.”
No sooner were the words out of her mouth than Alan jumped up and swung Jobeth around in his arms.
“You have made me the happiest man alive,” he grinned. Jobeth held him tightly, afraid to let go as she twirled through the air. She could not believe it. She was going to be Alan’s wife.
They were married by an old reverend with milky blue eyes and flyaway white hair. He preached his sermon, his clouded eyes not seeming to notice the children who witnessed the ceremony before him. Shawna stood holding
Mara-Joy in her arms, between Alan and Jobeth. Even Queenie the dog sat beside Jobeth protectively.
They were all smiles as the reverend pronounced them man and wife. Alan gently leaned over and kissed Jobeth softly on the lips. Jobeth closed her eyes, allowing the warmth of Alan’s kiss to envelop her body. The ceremony was over. They were married.
They traveled for a few more hours before Alan stopped the buggy. Jobeth nervously put Shawna to sleep in the back of the wagon. The child closed her eyes quickly, sleeping deeply for the first time since Tamara’s suicide. Jobeth walked over to Mara-Joy’s cradle. The baby slept peacefully, sucking her fingers.
Jobeth gently touched the soft dark curls. Curls so much like her little son’s hair. She pulled the blanket up around the baby’s neck. She had Mara-Joy now. She was hers.
“What is the matter?” Alan whispered from the back of the wagon. Jobeth jumped, her hand fluttering to her heart. She had not heard him enter.
“I didn’t see you,” Jobeth said, shyly facing him. Her heart began to race.
Alan held the back flap of the wagon open and the moon’s light glowed around him like a halo. Jobeth breath caught in her throat. He looked so big and handsome standing there. She loved him deeply. Her stomach began to churn. She didn’t know if it was because of fear or desire.
“I’m sorry. You seem to be lost in deep thought. What were you thinking?” Alan asked, coming to sit on the bed that was now his and Jobeth’s. He gazed at her as she stood staring at him. The thought of Jobeth and him together as man and wife heated him with desire. He felt ashamed and tried to hide his growing arousal by crossing his legs. He knew he would have to go slowly with Jobeth. She had been through so much already. They had the rest of their lives to become lovers. She was his wife now and that was all that mattered to him.
“Alan, I know you expect me to . . .” Jobeth turned away, embarrassed. Her fingers flew to her mouth and she began to bite her nails.
Alan stood up and went to her, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. She was shivering.
“Jobeth.”
“We’re married, Alan .
. .” she quivered, his touch raising goose bumps all over her body. She could not face him, for fear her legs would give out from under her and she would fall flat on her face.
Jerking uncontrollably, she took a deep breath trying to relax. Her body seemed to have a mind of its own and she could not stop it from trembling.
“Jobeth, I am not Father James. I will never hurt you.” His fingers gently caressed her arm, causing a shiver to run up her spine. “We have our whole lives to be together. I will wait ‘till you are ready.”
She turned to face him. He stood so close to her she could feel his breath on her body and the response it made.
“Thank you,” she sniffed, her shivering subsiding. He tenderly kissed her forehead and went back to his bed.
“Alan, I do love you. I want to be with you as your wife, I do . . . I’m just scared.”
“I love you too.” He stood again and kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”
“All right,” Jobeth whispered, lying down on the bed with Shawna across from Alan’s. Alan went to his bunk, turning away from Jobeth. He might as well get some sleep. He was not worried about how the evening ended. As much as he wanted to sweep Jobeth into his arms and make love to her, he would wait till she was ready to be his. The important thing was that she was his bride; in time they would be together as man and wife.
Jobeth could not sleep. The sounds in the wagon told her everyone else could. Quietly she got up and went outside to clear her mind.
The cool air felt good on her face. She breathed deeply of the smells around her. She liked the fragrance of grass swaying in the wind mingled with the scent of horses. It was liberating.
She sensed someone behind her shoulder and wheeled around, alert.
Alan stood in front of her. He was dressed in just his pants, his strong naked chest rising up and down. His want for Jobeth was clearly visible. She went into his arms and he held her tightly. She could smell his special scent and kissed his neck hungrily, tasting his sweet flesh.
“Jobeth . . .” he moaned rubbing her back. She gently took his hand and moved it up her side, slowly. Shivers of fear and joy coursed through her body.
Alan sighed deeply, slipping his fingers into Jobeth’s blouse. She arched her back as he released her breasts, and his warm hands encircled her soft mounds. Delicately, he bent his head and brushed his lips against an erect nipple.
Currents of electricity bolted through Jobeth’s body as Alan began to suck each nipple in turn.
“Are you sure you are ready?” he asked looking into her flushed face.
“Yes . . . Yes, Alan. I love you.” Jobeth tangled her fingers into his sandy hair, pulling him to her waiting body.
“I love you, Jobeth . . . so much.” He bent back down to her heaving bosom, feeling the texture of her with his tongue. Jobeth arched her back again, a moan escaping from her lips. Alan began to trace his hands down her tight belly. He lifted his head and kissed her hard on the mouth.
Jobeth greedily accepted his tongue.
Alan slowly removed her skirt and ran a hand between her legs, feeling her warmth. She stiffened for a moment as Alan gently laid her onto the soft grass. Little by little he began kissing her face, her eyes and her mouth. Moving down lower to her collarbone, her breast. Jobeth groaned with pleasure. She gasped when he suckled her breast and then began to kiss her belly, moving lower and lower. Her legs spread automatically as his lips explored. She had to control herself from crying out when his head went between her legs.
Never could she imagine it could be like this. She began to squirm with pleasure.
He sat up and removed his trousers, exposing his erection. It no longer scared Jobeth. She reached out and stroked his hard member, hungrily wanting him. Wanting him to consume, to fill her with a need she had never known.
He pushed her back with his smooth chest and lay on top of her, kissing her passionately. Jobeth wrapped her long lean legs around his body. Alan leaned forward and looked deeply into Jobeth’s eyes as he entered her with ease.
She cried out his name as he slipped inside her. Alan sobbed as his want for Jobeth overtook him. They wrapped themselves together, their bodies becoming one. They cried together as they reached climax and lay spent, still attached, in each other’s arms.
They slept for an hour then made love again, just as intensely and full of hunger. They didn’t stop until the sun began to rise and the children were about to wake up. Reluctantly they dressed, kissing each other deeply, and went back to the wagon. Mara-Joy stirred.
A new day had begun.
Chapter 16 —