Loving Eliza Page 19
Eliza slapped her.
The woman pressed her hand to her cheek, looking horrified.
“I warned you not to speak about John that way.”
Harriet threw down her cane and screamed.
Startled, Eliza stepped back, not sure of how to react. The stupid woman was a loon through and through.
“She’s beating me! Make her stop!”
“Why you—” Eliza pulled on the woman’s hair. “I’ve had enough of you, you witch! Now, shut up.”
“She’s hurting me!”
She let go of the woman and retrieved the cane. “You want this? Then stop your hollering.”
“What is the meaning of this?” a man called out.
Great. A group of people came running to see what the ruckus was about. “I ought to club you over the head with this,” Eliza hissed.
Harriet glared at her. “I wouldn’t expect less from a whore.”
Eliza’s hand tightened around the club, but this time her actions were out of anxiety instead of anger. “Please don’t tell them. Look, I’m sorry. I won’t do anything to upset you ever again.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to keep coming to my house and working for me. My silence will be payment enough, don’t you agree?”
Eliza winced. Could she afford to make such a deal? Sooner or later, she’d do something or say something to upset the woman, and the woman would end up revealing her secret anyway. Eliza knew people like Harriet all too well. “Be a good girl,” her uncle once whispered in her ear. “As long as you don’t tell anyone our little secret, I won’t let your aunt get rid of you.” But when she got pregnant, he quickly forgot that promise. No. She couldn’t afford to make such a pact. There was no honor among liars, and sooner or later, Harriet would grow tired of her and tell the town anyway. She was tired of living in fear.
Eliza handed the cane back to Harriet as the people reached them. “No, Mrs. Lube. We are not in agreement. I will never be your slave again.”
The group crowded around them. She recognized a few of them, but most of the people had turned back to whatever they had already been doing. The ones that remained were all just a bunch of busybodies who had absolutely nothing better to do than to mind other people’s business. Every town had them, and every town had a Harriet Lube who patiently waited for the right moment to strike a deal, only to turn the tables at the most inopportune time.
“In that case,” Harriet began, turning to the crowd, “I suppose these nice, moral people might like to know what kind of woman they have in their midst. Is that what you want?”
The people, naturally, were curious. Why wouldn’t they be? They could taste the sweetness of gossip when its fruit was ripe.
Eliza was tired of fighting. All of her life, she’d hidden. She either hid from herself or from someone else, but she’d always hidden something. What was it her father once told her? The truth shall set you free?
“I’ll save you the trouble,” she told Harriet. Looking at the crowd and ignoring her pounding heart, she said, “Before I came here, I was a prostitute. I didn’t want to be one, but when I was fourteen, my uncle sold me into the profession. I came here for a clean start. But I guess there are some things that one can never run from, no matter how hard they try.”
Her gaze shifted from Harriet’s startled look to John who had finally shown up. A little too late. She felt numb as she moved forward. As if on cue, the crowd parted for her. She didn’t dare look any of them in the eye. As long as she could keep her focus on what was in front of her, she would make progress. Somehow, she’d rise above this. She was a survivor. She’d always survived, and she wasn’t about to stop now.
She stopped in front of John and finally looked up at him. Of all the people there, he was the only one who’d devastate her if he turned his back on her. Tears came to her eyes as he put his arm around her and led her down the road, away from the people, away from the whispers and stares. For once, she was glad he parked on the edge of town.
Chapter Twenty
Eliza sat on the bed and stared out the window, not really seeing anything. A tear trickled down her cheek. This was supposed to be a good day. Part of her wanted to take the picture frame and smash it. The only thing that stopped her was knowing that John’s mother wanted him to have it. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her cheek on them. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths.
All was not lost. John still loved her. He took her home. She cried while she told him what she did and why. He didn’t make any gestures to communicate. He simply held her close and let her cry. Then she asked to be alone so he went to his work house while she undressed until she was in her chemise and petticoats and sat on the bed. She didn’t know how much time passed as she sat there, contemplating her life and how tired she was of running from her past. Now that she’d come out and told everyone the truth, there was no hiding from it. And now she’d face whatever consequences came from it. She was done running. But it hurt. There was no denying how much it hurt.
The front door opened and she lifted her head and turned her attention to the bedroom doorway. It had to be John. If it wasn’t, then the person would have knocked. Sure enough, John peered around the corner of the doorway and looked at her with a question in his eyes.
“If people avoided you before, you just wait. No one will go near you now.” She swallowed the lump in her throat and turned back to the window. Another tear slid down her cheek.
He sat next to her, his body warm and solid against her, and his lips brushed her shoulder.
“How can you still want to be with me?” she asked, her voice trembling.
He reached for her hand and pressed it against his heart. He loved her. Of course, the answer was so easy to him. But then, that’s how John was. He saw things in black and white; things were either good or bad, and when he looked at her, he didn’t see any of the grays that shadowed her for years.
She tightened her hold on his hand and turned so she was facing him. Even as she felt more tears forming in her eyes, she kissed him, taking comfort in his touch. She needed him. It’d been so long since she admitted that she needed anyone, and it scared her to no end to confess it but she whispered, “I need you,” before she buried her face in his neck.
His response was to pull her into his arms and kiss the top of her head. They stayed still for a few minutes, and she focused on the calm beating of his heart and the steady rhythm of his breathing. When it was just the two of them together, the rest of the world seemed to slip away and nothing else mattered. She loved that most about being with him.
He stroked her back and she felt her muscles relax. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment, for she would learn to appreciate each moment for what it was instead of worrying about what would happen next. Tomorrow would take care of itself. For now, she was loved and cherished, and she’d drown herself in the affection her husband was bestowing upon her.
She pulled away from him so she could undo the strings on her chemise. He leaned forward and kissed the side of her neck. A slight smile crossed her face as he offered to help her out of her undergarments. His hands were familiar to her by now, and she granted him access to anything he wanted to touch.
Once she was naked before him, she gave him a small smile and whispered, “It’d be more fun if you took off your clothes too.”
To her surprise, he didn’t let her undress him. He hopped off the bed and shrugged his clothes off so fast that if she’d blinked, she would have missed it.
“Well, you’re a little eager, aren’t you?”
He smiled and jumped into bed and pulled her into his arms.
She laughed. The simple action of laughing made her feel so much better. She’d forgotten how uplifting something like a laugh could be, but she suspected he made her laugh for that very reason. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, giving herself permission to fully enjoy him.
He returned her kiss, his lips firm but not impatient. He’d take
his time to enjoy her. He laid her on her back and took his time in caressing her skin. His kisses drifted from her mouth to her cheeks and down her neck and lower. She ran her fingers over his skin as he kissed her body, not leaving one inch untended to. Where his lips went, his hands followed, and in his actions, she felt adored. She’d heard that making love could be an act of devotion, an act where a man showed the woman that she was the most important person in his life, but she didn’t fully understand it until then.
When he came back up and kissed her lips, she decided she would do the same for him, for she wanted him to know how much she loved him and though she hadn’t connected lovemaking with real love, she could now. She liked the give and take that was taking place, and it became clear how two people could become one. One mind, one heart, one flesh. There was something spiritual in the process, in what was happening between them. And to think she thought there was nothing new to learn in doing this.
She wanted him to be on top of her when he entered her so she urged him to roll on top of her, and he followed her lead. She closed her eyes and embraced the feelings his movements aroused in her. He took her hands in his and she held on tight, wishing they could always be like this. The sensation was slow in building, their bodies moving at a leisurely pace. She took in the small details associated with him; his smell, the sound of his uneven breathing, the taste of his skin, and the feel of the male part of him. She kept her eyes closed so she could absorb everything, wanting to remember this moment for the rest of her life.
When she felt the urge to moan, she did. And when her release came, she cried out and clung to him, no longer self-conscious about voicing her pleasure. He came soon after and collapsed on top of her. She held him even closer, unwilling to let him go. She wasn’t ready to let this moment in time pass. Not yet. And he stayed with her. Even as the minutes ticked from the clock in the kitchen, they remained still, listening to the birds singing outside and feeling the gentle caress of the breeze that drifted in through the window.
And she knew that no matter what the future brought, he’d be with her every step of the way. She was no longer alone in this world.
***
The next day came and to John’s surprise, he saw Frank and Addy as they rode their buggy up to his property. He set aside the second vase he had started for Eliza, hoping to make one for every room in the house so she could have flowers everywhere she went. He stood up and left the work building. He didn’t expect anyone to come onto his land. People usually stayed away when things got unpleasant, and there had been no mistaking the uncomfortable atmosphere in town yesterday. As he approached Frank and Addy, he gave a hesitant wave.
“How you doing, John?” Frank asked in his familiar friendly tone.
John relaxed. So they hadn’t come to criticize Eliza. That was good. She needed to have friends in her corner, people besides him who would support her through this trial in her life. He wanted to thank them for coming out but didn’t know how unless he wrote it down. So he settled for shaking Frank’s hand and smiling at Addy.
After Frank helped Addy down from the buggy, she turned to John and took a package from the seat. “I figured that neither one of you would go to town today to pick up your picture.”
She was right. They hadn’t planned on it, so he nodded.
“Well, we thought we’d bring the picture to you. Is Eliza ready to receive company? I’d like to give it to her.”
He motioned for them to follow him. When he opened the front door, he heard Eliza moving around in the bedroom. He gestured to the kitchen table for them to sit and went to find his wife.
Eliza was gathering a pile of their dirty clothes and putting them into a basket. She smiled when she saw him. “Is there anything else you want me to wash today?”
He shook his head and held his hand out to her.
“What is it?”
He waved her forward and pointed to the kitchen.
She frowned. “Is someone here?”
He nodded and smiled encouragingly at her.
“Then it’s good?” She sounded hesitant.
He wished he could tell her it was alright, but all he could do was smile and gently take her hand in his.
She didn’t fight him, but he noted the way her steps slowed as they got closer to the kitchen.
Addy and Frank, who were sitting together, looked up as they entered the room.
Addy jumped up and ran over to hug Eliza.
John let go of Eliza’s hand so she could hug Addy back.
“How are you doing?” Addy asked.
“I-Well...” Eliza glanced at John and then at Frank. “You did hear about me...About what I used to be?”
Addy pulled away but held onto her hands. “Yes. Everyone knows by now, and we’re terribly sorry for what happened to you when you were fourteen. Why, you were just a child.”
Frank cleared his throat. “It’s a mighty shame. We’re just glad you got out of that life and married up with John.”
“Melissa spoke about how excited she was that you were coming,” Addy said. “Seeing as how her cousin is a preacher, it makes sense. She kept saying how wonderful it was that you were getting a second chance. Of course, I didn’t really understand what she meant until yesterday. I hope you realize that you do have friends in this town.”
“Addy’s been fretting up something awful that you and John will leave for a new town. We certainly don’t want to see you two go.”
As soon as John saw the tears form in Eliza’s eyes, he grabbed the handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.
She laughed as she accepted it. “He always seems to know what I need.” After she dabbed her eyes, she looked at them. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me. I’m fortunate to have you all in my life.”
“We also came to bring you your picture.” Addy pulled the lid off the box and took out the photograph.
John leaned forward and thought it turned out well. No one would know that Eliza had been shaking. He nudged her in the side and pointed to her.
“You think I’m beautiful?” Eliza guessed.
He nodded.
“Now how do you two communicate like that?” Frank wondered, looking intrigued.
“Oh Frank,” Addy began with a grin, “they don’t need to speak to know what the other one is thinking. Love has its own language.”
“I suppose you’re right.” He looked at John. “But I still need you to write things down.”
Eliza laughed again, and John suddenly realized how much he missed that sound. Yesterday had been such a somber day, and he hated watching her cry. He went to retrieve the silver frame from the parlor and came back so he could put the photograph in it. Then he showed it to her.
“He doesn’t look so tall when he’s sitting, does he?” Eliza noted. Glancing at him, she said, “You can seem intimidating at times, you know.”
He blinked. Him? Intimidating?
“That’s true,” Frank agreed. “It’s because of your height.”
Eliza placed the picture down on the shelf above the cookstove. “Thank you for bringing this out. I do like it.”
“Every woman should have a picture of her and her husband,” Addy commented.
“Will you two stay for lunch? I was just about to make something.”
“We’d be delighted. And let me help.”
Frank stood up. “I don’t know about you, John, but I take that as my cue to leave.”
“What? You don’t want to make a casserole dish?” Addy teased.
“You know very well what would happen if I were to help out in the kitchen.”
She sighed. “He’s right.” She looked at Eliza and John. “He nearly burned down the kitchen in our first year of marriage. I have banned him from the cookstove ever since.”
“You won’t hear me complaining about that either.” He turned to John. “You want to show me what you’re working on?”
John nodded and grabbed some paper and a pencil. It’d be
nice to have a real conversation with Frank for a change instead of nodding or shaking his head. He kissed Eliza on the cheek.
“Oh now I can’t have John showing me up here,” Frank grumbled good-naturedly. He walked up to Addy, put his arms around her, leaned her back and gave her a long kiss. By the time he set her upright, she was blushing. “There. Now when John here has been married to you for a good twenty some odd years, he’ll kiss you like that,” he told Eliza before heading out of the house.
Addy tapped Eliza on the arm. “We ought to come out here more often.”
John chuckled to himself as he followed Frank out the door.
Chapter Twenty-One
Eliza went out to the creek the next morning to do some light washing. Fall was quick in coming, but she thought she might take advantage of the warm weather while it lingered in the air. She had taken some soap and a washcloth. She took off her clothes and knelt by the cool water so she could wash her hair. The row of trees provided a sense of privacy from anyone who might ride onto John’s property to visit, though she doubted anyone would do that while it was still early in the morning. She rose with the dawn, something that she hadn’t done in a long time.
She wasn’t accustomed to the sunrise. John didn’t need to be up at dawn like a farmer did, so he liked to sleep until around eight. Even when she worked for that horrible Harriet Lube, she woke up at eight to be at Harriet’s door in the half hour. This was a nice change, she decided as she dipped her hands in the cool water and rubbed the soap until she had built up a nice lather. She filled the cup with water, bent her head forward so her hair fell in front of her, and tipped the cup so the water poured over her tresses. Then she worked the lather into her hair before she rinsed it. Reaching for the comb she’d brought along, she picked it up and worked the tangles out, gritting her teeth each time the comb got stuck. She patiently worked through her hair.
At one point, she thought she heard a twig snap, so she stopped and glanced over her shoulder, only to see a squirrel run up a tree. She did a quick scan of the trees around her. It hadn’t occurred to her how far the house was from the creek until that moment. Everything seemed normal, and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. She threw her comb on the towel beside her and decided she could bathe later. Next time, she’d take John with her. She stood up and threw on her undergarments and dress. Just as she was finishing her top button, she turned around and saw Troy standing in front of her.