Chapter Twenty-One
Josie removed the kettle from the stove and poured Rose a cup of tea.
The cabin smelled like coffee early in the morning and again in the evening, so a cup of tea was a nice change.
Though Josie liked coffee well enough, there was something more comforting about a warm cup of tea.
It reminded her of home—the way her mother used to set the table with fine china and serve tea to their house callers.
Those days felt like a lifetime ago. Mama always took pride in welcoming company into their home, and for a brief moment, Josie could almost feel her presence again.
Taking a quick look out the window, Josie grinned, watching Paul and Andy play with the children in the front yard.
Lillian, wearing a wool coat that was too large for her, struggled to keep up with the others.
And little Gideon was now using those chubby legs of his to participate, waddling after them a circle.
Josie’s chest tightened with dread, exhaling a soft sigh.
If only they could play with other children their age every day.
That depended on whether the town ever reopened the school.
It broke Josie’s heart to know the neighboring children wouldn’t have educational opportunities like Asheville did, but that was what separated the wild frontier from civilization.
Josie gathered the tea tray, setting it in front of Rose. The wooden serving tray wasn’t fancy like the porcelain ones Josie was used to, but Rose didn’t seem to mind. She took a tin cup with gratitude, grinning as though it were delicate china.
“This isn’t one of Aunt Polly’s specialty teas, is it?” Rose teased, retrieving a spoonful of sugar from the small bowl on the tray.
Josie picked up a cup and filled it with tea. “Goodness no. This is just plain black tea. It came from Mr. Lynde’s store.”
Rose chuckled, stirring the sugar into her cup. “I’m glad to hear so. I’ve had a run-in with her remedies before—let’s just say, one experience was enough.”
“What kind of remedy, if you don’t mind me asking?” Josie asked, settling into her chair.
“Fertility,” Rose answered bluntly. “She gave it to me as a housewarming gift when we arrived.”
“A fertility tea? Is that really such a thing?”
“According to her, yes. Aunt Polly makes it for every newlywed couple. It’s a tradition of hers.” Rose took a sip of tea and closed her eyes. “Now that’s what I like better than coffee.”
“You don’t like coffee?”
Rose shook her head. “I’ve tried, but I never could stomach it. The smell is the only thing pleasing to me. My husband enjoys it though.”
Josie took another sip of tea, then placed the cup down. “Speaking of husbands, where is the reverend?”
“Caleb is taking a missionary journey to a new settlement about fifteen miles from here.”
Josie’s nose crinkled. “A mission? I thought he was just a preacher.”
Rose folded her hands on the table. “He is, but he’s felt led to share the gospel outside our town.”
“Being a missionary too is very humble of him,” Josie remarked. “I’m delighted he’s doing the Lord’s work.”
“I’m assuming Travis is taking your grain to the mill right now?”
Josie nodded. “He is. I can’t believe the harvest is almost over.”
“Thank God for that.” Rose paused for a moment and placed her cup down. “I almost forgot. I have something for you.”
Josie’s eyes widened as Rose pulled a small stack of baby clothes from the bag beside her.
She gasped. She hadn’t told anyone at church about the baby.
For the past month, she’d hidden her growing belly under baggy clothes and shawls, doing everything she could to avoid attention.
Travis had assured her he didn’t care about the gossip, but it unsettled Josie.
The thought of people whispering and asking questions made her anxious.
Now, seeing these tiny garments made it clear the secret was out, and the idea of it being public knowledge sent a stir of fear through her.
“I know you and Travis have been keeping it a secret, but Lillian told me during Sunday school. She explained her drawing was for the baby. So, I thought you’d like some hand-me-downs from the boys.”
A laugh slipped through Josie’s mouth. That Lillian.
She never knew when to hold her tongue. Josie was surprised the girl kept the baby a secret the past month and a half.
Josie ran her fingers over the delicate embroidered collars on the tiny gowns.
It almost didn’t seem real—after everything, she was actually having a baby.
For so long, she had dreamed of being a mother to her own child, and now that day was drawing near.
“I’m sure you’re already calculating how far along I am, knowing Travis and I just married two months ago.” Josie began folding the clothes, ready to put them away, but Rose’s voice stopped her.
“Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to offend or make you think I am a gossiper. I never meant to cause you harm by these gifts.”
Josie shook her head. “No, I didn’t mean it like that, Rose. I apologize for my tone. I just . . . I’m just worried about what people will say. They’ll know the baby’s early—”
“Josie, stop,” Rose interrupted. “It’s not my place to judge—nor anyone else’s.
This is between you and Travis,” Rose paused, her hands gripped around her cup.
“I knew something was off with your timeline when you married Travis. I didn’t ask, and my husband never told me your situation.
I want you to know that I only want to be your friend.
I don’t care if the baby is early or late.
I want to be there for you and help you in any way I can. ”
The word “friend” made Josie’s heart skip.
She hadn’t had a true friend since before the war, and hearing it now stirred something deep within her.
For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt loved and appreciated.
Marcus had taken that from her, stripping her of any sense of belonging or connection.
But now, with Rose, she realized she wanted it back.
She craved the warmth of friendship, something that had been missing from her life for far too long.
Josie swallowed hard, holding back her tears. She reached for Rose’s hand, gripping it tightly. “Thank you, Rose. Thank you.”
“What are friends for?” Rose giggled. “Now let’s talk about the cribs and quilting. What do you have planned? Are there any colors you favor particularly? For me, I found yellows and creams perfect for either a boy or girl.”
“I’m not sure. Yellow seems nice for a quilt, but I haven’t had the time to shop for fabric.
As for cribs, we only have one that Gideon is still using.
The baby will stay in the bed with . . .
near its parents.” Josie bit back the words just in time before saying, “with me.” Would Travis be near the baby when it was born?
The thought of caring for him alone suddenly weighed on her.
“Well, don’t look too solemn,” Rose said with a smile. “I’m sure the baby will love to be near its mama and papa rather than alone in a strange crib. Trust me, they do better when they aren’t confined in a lonely bed.”
Josie looked down, noticing Rose’s cup half empty. “Would you like more tea?”
“Please,” Rose answered, holding out her cup.
As Josie filled Rose’s tin cup, Rose continued their conversational visit.
“Would you consider a quilting bee for the baby? I know the ladies of the church would enjoy the fellowship, especially one honoring a new life coming into the world.”
Josie nearly spilled the teapot. She quickly pushed Rose’s cup to her, then forced a smile. However, Rose seemed to see through her facade as though she was transparent glass.
“Whenever you’re comfortable. Take your time with the decision.”
The thought of women coming into their home, dedicating their afternoon to make her a quilt with her belly twice the size it was supposed to be, nearly knocked the wind out of her.
More lies. She’d have to lie again, making her turn back to her deceiving ways she wanted to avoid.
Deceiving one family was different than deceiving the whole town, and even with Travis, she couldn’t hide for too long.
“I’ll think about it.”
Rose reached out, touching Josie’s hand. “Whatever you need, don’t feel shy to ask.”
Josie’s chest flooded with warmth. “Thank you, Rose.” Tears pricked in her corners. “You’re a wonderful friend.”
Statesville, North Carolina; Early September 1872
General smiled as he gripped the bedrail. Carefully, he used his strength to push one foot forward, then he tried the other. As he propped his weight against the wooden rail, his chest swelled with excitement.
“Take that, Colson,” he muttered bitterly.
General had spent the last month doing the man’s ridiculous exercises, and at night, when everyone was in bed, he had attempted his own.
One foot after the other, trying to balance himself, and he’d done it.
Next, he removed his grip from the bedrail and held his arms out to steady himself.
A grin stretched across his face. He was standing.
All on his own—no doctor, no mammy. He didn’t need anyone’s help.
He chuckled to himself. Invincible General—that was who he was. No more would he be the house’s prisoner. No more would he be Colson’s little experiment. He’d be free, free to do what he set out to do since he woke.
Steps echoed up the staircase, and General’s veins pumped intensely with enthusiasm. Let’s show them. The door opened, and Mammy entered, her mouth open in shock, and her breath hitched. She held her hands over her mouth, muffling her scream.
“General, yuh’re standin’!”
General crossed his arms. “Go fetch Dr. Colson. It’s time to begin our little game.”