thirty-five
Zoe groaned and pried one eye open. At the bright daylight that accosted her, she retreated behind closed lids. For a moment, she used her other senses to take in her surroundings. The warmth of coverlets surrounding her, the strong odor of an onion poultice, a waft of mint, and bubbly kisses followed by baby giggles.
She was home. Home.
When she’d walked out the door, she’d never believed she’d be back. But here she was, in her bed, in her cozy house, with all the delightful memories greeting her.
Another playful sound caused more baby laughter.
“Will?” she croaked.
“Mama’s awake!” Will’s voice rang out nearby with eagerness.
An instant later, the mattress sank under his weight and Violet’s.
Mama? Will had called her Mama. The ache in Zoe’s head seemed to fall away into a dull throb.
“Say it, Vi-Vi,” Will crooned in his baby-talk voice. “Say Ma-ma again.”
Zoe’s eyes flew open, and she found herself peering up at the most beautiful sight in the world—Will’s lopsided grin and Violet’s wide eyes and smile. Joy welled deep in Zoe’s chest and pulsed into her throat. “You both called me Mama.”
Perched on the edge of the bed, Will glanced down and bunched the blanket in his fist, his expression shy but chagrined. “I know you ain’t really my ma—”
“I want to be your ma, if you’ll let me.”
His eyes turned shiny and he nodded. “I’d like that right well.”
“Good, then you’ll need to call me Ma or Mama.”
“Mama,” Violet chirped, clapping her hands together.
Zoe laughed and Will joined her. Violet bent low and puckered up for the kiss she was apparently growing accustomed to getting from Zoe. With another laugh, Zoe obliged the babe, even though the girl’s kiss was sloppy and full of drool.
Squinting against the brightness of the cabin, Zoe glanced to the window and attempted to gauge the time. From what she could tell, it was midday or perhaps early afternoon. How long had she been asleep?
“I hope you’re not getting in trouble with Mr. Barton for missing work.”
“Nah, he told Pastor Abe I could miss for a little bit if’n I was looking after you.”
“That was mighty nice of him.”
“Guess giving him those mittens and sending along those piping hot biscuits sure did make him like you an awful lot.”
She hoped Will understood she hadn’t been kind to Mr. Barton so that he’d be nice back. That wasn’t her way.
Before she could voice the correction, Will hurried on, as talkative as always. “I’m only staying until Pastor Abe gets back from his visit with Wanda Washington.”
“She sent for you and Pastor Abe. Guess what they say is true, that she’s really dyin’.”
If Wanda had sent for her, then Will was right. The woman must be nearing the end. What would she do about Lyle?
Zoe pushed up to her elbows and blinked away the dizziness. “I need to go to Wanda’s too, Will.”
“Pastor Abe didn’t want to bother you. Said he’d go on his own. He ain’t been gone long and will be back real soon. ’Sides, he’s been sitting here by your side ever since we got back last night. Ain’t gone out except to pass along word to someone to fetch me.”
Zoe raised herself until she was sitting, noting that she was still in the same clothing she’d been in for the past couple of days. Her skirt, namely her hem, was caked with mud. Her stockings were splattered and dirty, and even her bodice hadn’t been able to withstand the dirty trip.
“I need to change first.” She dragged her legs over the edge of the bed and fought another wave of pain—this one farther back in her head.
“Abe’ll tan my hide if’n I let you out of my sight.” They both knew Abe would never tan anyone’s hide. Even so, Will’s thin face was wreathed with worry, most likely that he’d disappoint Abe.
“I’m feeling much better.” She placed first one foot on the floor and then the other. Even though she silently reminded herself of her resolve to trust God’s plan for the children, she couldn’t keep her anxiety for Lyle at bay and wouldn’t rest until she knew he would be well taken care of.
Zoe pushed past the lingering haze of pain and knocked on the front door of Wanda’s mansion. She wrapped her shawl tighter, even though the early afternoon contained the warmth and sunshine of spring.
She’d encountered numerous townspeople on her way, all of whom had greeted her cheerfully and welcomed her back. Though she’d worried that her escapade might have repercussions for either her or Abe’s reputation in the community, everyone put her at ease, as accepting as always.
Hearing no sounds coming from inside the house, Zoe raised her fist to knock again, only to find the door opening and Mr. Ping standing there. Before she could remind him who she was and explain her presence, he bowed at the waist and then waved her inside.
Zoe hesitated. Should she bow back? What was the proper etiquette?
“Missee will be glad to see you,” he said as he closed the door.
Zoe followed Mr. Ping through the grand entryway, her footsteps echoing against the glossy white tiles to the wide spiraling staircase with an enormous chandelier hanging above it.
“How is Lyle?” She peered around, hoping for a glimpse of the little boy.
“Lil’ Man needs a mother.” Mr. Ping spoke gravely from several steps ahead of her. “You will take the boy and be mother to him.”
Zoe wasn’t sure if Mr. Ping was telling or asking her. As much as she wanted to agree, she had to think of Abe and what he needed. “I don’t think my husband is in favor of the idea.”
“You convince him.”
This time Zoe had no doubt Mr. Ping was ordering, and she couldn’t formulate a response, so she said nothing as they reached the second floor and he led her into Wanda’s bedchamber. Abe knelt beside the bed on one side, and another man sat in a chair on the opposite side—a man Zoe didn’t recognize.
“Zoe,” Wanda croaked from the shadows of her dark canopy bed.
At the mention of her name, Abe’s head jerked up, and his attention flew to her. “Zoe, what are you doing here?” He jumped to his feet and started toward her, his brow furrowing. “You should be home in bed.”
“I’m doing fine.” Though her head pounded a little, the pain was bearable compared to what it had been like yesterday riding home.
Eyes filled with worry, Abe reached for her, slipping his arm around her waist and supporting her. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”
He was right. She probably shouldn’t have rushed to get out of bed. Nevertheless, now that she was here she could support him and be of help to Wanda, couldn’t she? After all, Wanda had wanted her to come too.
“I want to help.” Zoe broke free of Abe and strode to the bedside. “What do you need, Wanda? Tell me what I can do for you.”
Though thick window tapestries held out the sunlight, there was still enough daylight in the room for Zoe to see that Wanda had deteriorated even further. Her body was wasting away, her skin a sickly yellow. She lifted her hand toward Zoe, but could hardly raise it from the bed.
Though Zoe had never liked this woman, she reached for Wanda’s hand and circled it in her own. Whatever Wanda’s past mistakes, Zoe couldn’t hold on to them and had to forgive.
“Please, ple-ase, take Lyle,” Wanda whispered, her grip surprisingly strong. “Raise him as your own.”
Zoe swallowed the words of agreement that pushed for release. She had to do what was right for Abe, for their future together. “I can’t promise you I’ll raise him, Wanda. But I can promise I’ll try to find him a good home.”
“No, she’ll raise him,” Abe said.
Zoe turned to find Abe by her side.
“We will raise him.” Once again, Abe wrapped his arm around her waist, the solidness of his hold drawing her into the crook of his arm.
“We?”
His eyes were gentle and earnest. “Yes, we will raise him as our child. And we’ll do the same with Violet.”
“What about your chances of becoming a bishop?”
“I don’t need to be a bishop to become the leader God wants me to be.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded. “And I’m fairly certain God isn’t finished with me yet in the colonies, that He has more work for me to do here.”
The man across from the bed coughed lightly as if to remind them they weren’t alone. But Zoe’s heartbeat was racing too hard and her thoughts whirling too fast for her to slow them down, much less stop them. “But won’t the bishop cut you off from your ministry? And how will you be able to support yourself?”
Abe’s arm only tightened around her. “Someone wise once told me that if God’s the one who gives us our ministry, then He’s the only one who can take it away.”
“That’s right.” She couldn’t hold back a smile.
“He’s put us here together, Zoe. He’s given us work to do. And now we have to trust that He’ll provide the means, no matter what happens with the bishop.”
“Then you’ll take Lyle?” Wanda cut in, her voice weak and winded.
Abe glanced first at Wanda and then at the man across the bed. “If you’d like, you can have your lawyer draft adoption papers. We’ll make him our little boy.”
Tears sprang into Zoe’s eyes. “Really?”
“Really.” He squeezed her as if to reassure her.
“Draw up the papers right away, Langston.” Tears started streaming down Wanda’s cheeks.
The man stood. “Certainly, Mrs. Washington. I’ll get to work on it.”
“No, now, this instant,” she insisted. “I’ve signed everything else, and I want this signed before I go.”
A timid knock on the door drew their attention to Mr. Ping standing in the hallway. “Sorry to interrupt, Pastor Abe, sir. But someone is here and insists to speak to you.”
“Would you please tell them I’m detained at present?”
Mr. Ping hesitated. “She said to tell Pastor Abe, sir, that she is your fiancée.”