around and get him moving.” She hollered for Ben Roland and told him to take a bucket, go down to the creek, and gather as many chunks of ice as he could find.
“Send Oliver,” Eliza said with a groan. “He’s…”
“Ben Roland can do it,” Caldonia replied. “I want Oliver here in case…” Her words fell away as Eliza stiffened in pain yet again.
When Ben Roland returned with the bucket of ice, Caldonia wrapped several large chunks in a wet rag and placed it on the spot where she’d felt the baby’s head.
Eliza shivered. “Oooh…that’s too…”
“It’s cold, I know. It’s gotta be,” Caldonia said. “This little devil has settled in warm and cozy. If his head starts feeling cold, he might look to move.”
Eliza sucked in a long breath and winced as another birthing pain took hold of her. They came often now; too often.
“Caldonia,” she whispered, “if something happens to me, tell Martin—”
“Ain’t nothing going to happen to you. And the only thing I’m gonna tell Martin Hobbs is that he should’ve had his no-good ass here to welcome this baby into the world.”
Before Eliza could answer, she felt her stomach push hard to the right.
“Glory be.” Caldonia grinned. “It looks like this little fella is turning himself around.”
Almost two hours passed before the baby’s head was where Caldonia wanted it. When the biggest pain yet came, she told Eliza to bear down hard. Moments later, Nellie Hobbs was born.
——————
SPRING CAME LATE THAT YEAR but summer followed close behind, and as the days grew long Eliza began to realize that Martin would not be back anytime soon. Perhaps never. Nellie’s birth had been difficult. It left her body drained and unable to do all she’d done the summer before. That year the garden was smaller and more manageable but less bountiful. When the first frost covered the ground, the pantry was less than half full.
Over the past two years Martin had been fairly generous, and Eliza, always fearful that she would one day find the wolf at the door, saved every spare penny. That winter she thanked God for having done so, because it seemed that they were always in need of something. Flour, lard, molasses, lamp oil, the list was endless, and bit by bit the money in her sack dwindled. With the pantry less than half full, it seemed that every week they ran out of something else.
When the year ended, she and Caldonia sat on the front porch looking up at the night sky and talking of what the future might bring.
“Do you believe he’ll ever come back?” Caldonia asked.
Eliza shrugged. “It happened before. It could happen again.”
“Last time, you went to Charleston looking for him. Do you think you’d do that again?”
“Not yet,” Eliza said. “I’ve got enough money left to tide us over a while longer, and I’d like to give Martin a chance to come home because he loves me and the children.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
Eliza shrugged again. “I’m sure 1907 can’t possibly be as bad as what we’ve already gone through.”
——————
IN EARLY FEBRUARY, BEN ROLAND was shooting at a jackrabbit when the Browning that had been handed down from Eliza’s daddy exploded in his hand. It was too dangerous to even think about using the shotgun again, so she spent $28 for a new Winchester and had to take Ben Roland to the doctor three different times. That same month Oliver started limping, and she discovered it was because his big toe was pushed up against the end of his boot. Again, there was no recourse but to spend the money for a new pair of boots, which was another $3.25.
That spring she walked down to the general store and took Louella with her. While Eliza was selecting the thread she needed for mending a dress, Louella explored the shelves and caught sight of a blue satin hair ribbon.
Tugging on her mama’s sleeve, she whispered, “This is the most beautiful hair bow I ever seen. Please, can I have it? I won’t ask for nothing else ever, I swear.”
The ribbon was the color of Louella’s eyes. Eliza glanced down at the price. Five cents. For five cents she could buy a box of salt or a small bag of flour. She hesitated for several seconds and shook her head. As Louella put the ribbon back on the shelf without a word of complaint, Eliza saw the sadness in her daughter’s eyes.
That night after the children were asleep, Eliza sat alone on the porch.