When I Last Saw You - Bette Lee Crosby Page 0,83

and corn. She was ready for whatever happened, but nothing did. Martin continued to return to Coal Creek every other week, and he left money in the jar each time he came. That Christmas he again gave each of the children a dollar and excluded Virgil. By then Virgil was almost two and knew to stay clear of his daddy. On the weekends when Martin did come home, Virgil would crawl under the bed, put his thumb in his mouth, and fall asleep. The first time it happened, Eliza was out of her mind with fear that he’d fallen off a cliff or drowned in the creek. She and the older boys searched for an hour before they discovered his hiding place.

For the better part of two years, everything went along smoothly. On occasion Eliza worried about Virgil wandering off to one place or another, but that was about the worst of it until the fall of 1905. In August Eliza missed her monthly, but she attributed it to the work she’d been doing in the garden. They’d planted half again what they did the previous year and she’d spent endless hours in the blistering sun, her back aching, and her legs so weary she could barely stand. The three boys helped, but with the eldest of them only 11 they couldn’t be expected to carry a man’s load.

The one person she could not look to for help was Martin; he’d made it known from the start that he was not the least bit interested in farm work.

“I work all week,” he’d said. “When I come here, I expect to enjoy myself. I don’t know why you want to garden anyway. I bring home more than enough for food. If you want to garden, do it when I’m not around.”

She missed her monthly again in September and blamed it on the stress of getting the food preserved and stored.

After all the work we’ve put in this summer, I can’t just stand by and let it spoil.

In October, the days turned cool and five of the children went off to school. With only the youngest two, Margaret Rose and Virgil, at home, she was free to sit in the rocker and relax. By then her breasts were swollen, and even the slightest whiff of tomato made her feel nauseous.

Impossible, she thought. She’d used the Marvel Whirling Spray religiously. The minute Martin climbed off of her, she’d hurry to the outhouse with that syringe and wince as the frigid solution swished through her insides. On a good night it was uncomfortable and on a bad night downright painful, especially in the dead of winter when the icy swirl rattled her bones.

Before the first snowfall, her waist had grown thick and soon there would be no denying the new life inside her. Given how Martin felt about Virgil, Eliza cringed at the mere thought of telling him. Each time he came to visit she steeled herself, fearful he might guess the truth by the look of her body. To have him discover it that way would be the worst yet. Eliza had to tell him, but as the weeks flew by she simply couldn’t find the courage to do so.

In the deepest, darkest part of her heart she knew that once he found out, this fragile happiness they’d found would be gone forever. He’d tell her to get rid of the baby, and when she refused he’d walk away just as he’d done before or do something even worse. Turn violent, harm her or one of the children. There was no way she could let that happen.

The second week of December, Martin said he had a number of things to take care of in Charleston and wouldn’t be back again until the first of the year. That’s when she decided the best way to tell him would be with a letter.

After they made love that night, she claimed she was going to the outhouse to do her lady wash. Instead of the syringe, she took a pencil and sheaf of writing paper. While he slept, she penned a five-page letter telling him of the baby coming and explaining how it was through no fault of her own. She swore that she’d been diligent in her use of the spray, but it had somehow failed them. On the last page she wrote that since they’d been so happy together the past two years, she was praying he could find it in his heart to

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