Up until the moment the gray-headed doctor allowed Bess to hear her baby’s heartbeat, she had somehow managed to think of her pregnancy as something that might or might not come to be. After all, plenty of women failed to carry their babies to full term. Why worry about something that might never happen?
But as soon as she heard her baby’s heart beating so quickly, the little flutters in her stomach that were steadily growing stronger became real. Before long, she was going to have a little person who was half her, someone she was responsible for bringing into the world.
Poor kid, she thought, with no better choices than being raised by a single mother who had no real clue about being a parent since she’d never had any or being left with the Taylor family to face the knowledge that its mother couldn’t be bothered.
She couldn’t let a child she’d brought into the world feel the bitter pain of abandonment, even if she turned out to be the worst kind of mother imaginable. She knew that the moment she faced the reality of that beating heart. She also knew she was going to have to do something to improve her ability to take care of her baby. And, she didn’t have a very long time to improve herself.
Agnes was outside in the waiting room when Bess finished the appointment. She laid aside the magazine she had been reading and gave Bess a warm hug. “So, how was it?” she asked at Bess’ ear.
Bess swallowed back the lump in her throat. “He was nice, like you said.” She waved the prescription in her hand. “He wants me to start taking these, but I’m sure I can do without them.”
They walked out of the doctor’s offices as this last was said, and Agnes waited until they were in the car before she turned and looked Bess squarely in the eyes. “I’ll bet those are prenatal vitamins, yes? I’ll see that they’re filled for you.” She flattened her hand, indicating that Bess should lay the slip of paper into her long fingers.
Bess hesitated. “I have to be able to pay for these things,” she said.
“You should be able to apply for a widow’s pension from the army,” Agnes told her. “Have you looked into that, Bess?”
She felt her face turning red. “No. I mean, we weren’t married for very long, after all.”
“But you were married.” Agnes started the car, raising her voice to be heard over the roar of the V8 engine. “I’ll put Judd on it. He’ll see that you get what you deserve in no time at all.”
What she deserved? Bess shuddered. “At any rate, Agnes, I can’t imagine it being enough money to raise a child on. I have to get some work.”
“Didn’t you come here so Daniel’s family could help you, Bess? Please, let us do this.”
Bess bit her lip, tasting the metallic traces in her blood. “I came because I thought maybe you would want Daniel’s baby,” she admitted. “But now that I’ve heard the heartbeat, I can’t just walk away. I know what it’s like to live without a mother.”
“When did you lose her, your mother?” Agnes asked.
Bess didn’t want to lay open her past, not when she was so uncertain of her future. “That’s all water under the bridge, Agnes. What I need right now is to figure out how I’m going to take care of myself and a baby. I won’t be reliant on you and Judd, especially Judd, no matter what it takes.”
“I’m sorry Judd has been so hard on you, dear.”
Bess shrugged, holding back uncharacteristic tears. Pregnancy and hormones, she thought. At least she hadn’t been cursed with morning sickness. “Judd’s actions certainly aren’t your fault. Really, you’ve shown me more of a home than I’ve had in a long, long time.”
“You’ve livened up the place. Judd and I were turning into a couple of sticks in the mud, if you want the truth.”
They pulled into a parking space in front of the drug store then, and Bess noticed that the shop next door was a laundromat with a Help Wanted sign. After asking Agnes not to wait for her, Bess entered the shop, inhaling the familiar scents of clean linen and flowery soap. Even the whirs of the washing machines and clacking tumbles of the dryers gave her a sense of calm she had not felt since boarding the bus in Houston to head to this West Texas town.
A rotund man with thick, black hair sat at the desk in the small room at the back of the building. He looked up with an irritated glance when Bess stepped into his office.
“Yes?” he barked. “Don’t tell me dryer number three is too hot still. I’ve had that repairman out here twice in the last few weeks already!”
Bess straightened. “I’m here about the job, sir,” she said. “I have experience. I’ve run a laundromat in Galveston, and I can do alterations.”
The man studied her from head to toe and snarled his lip. “Not in that condition, you can’t,” he snorted.
Bess felt her heart sink. “I’m a hard worker and in good health. And I need the work,” she plowed on.
He tapped the pencil in his fingers against the desk, thinking. Finally, he shrugged. “I’ll give you a two-week trial. Minimum wage only. Eight sharp. Tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Bess grinned, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. “You won’t be sorry, Mr.?”
He was looking at his paperwork again and didn’t lift his head to answer. “Bryan. Ed Bryan.”
Mr. Bryan didn’t say anything else but continued scratching on the papers in front of him. Bess left the laundromat and stepped into the drugstore, where she saw Agnes standing in conversation with a sophisticated-looking woman in an A-line dress, a choker of pearls around her long neck, her black hair coiffed into perfect curls. When Agnes introduced the woman to Bess, the stranger pushed her ruby-red lips into a semblance of a smile that did not reach her eyes.
The woman made quick work of finishing her conversation with Agnes and walked away with a swing to her hips that spoke of natural grace or much practice.
“Lillian is a sharp lady,” Agnes told Bess, watching the perfect hips sway out of the drugstore. “She’s had her eye on Judd since I can’t remember when.”
Bess raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised he isn’t married to her already.”
Agnes shrugged. “I suppose he’ll be ready when he’s ready. Were they interested?”
The abrupt change of subject caught Bess off guard. “What? Oh, well, after a fashion. I start a two-week trial tomorrow. That is, if I can borrow the car.”
Agnes studied her for a moment as if trying to decide something important. Then, she shrugged. “We’ll figure something out, I’m sure.” She held up the small, white bag in her hand. “I’ve got your prescription all filled for you. Shall we head back to the house?”
When they arrived home, Bess was disappointed to see Judd’s police vehicle in the drive. She’d hoped to have some time to collect her thoughts about motherhood and her working future before having to deal with her less-than-friendly brother-in-law. He hadn’t said more than two words to her since speeding off after church the Sunday before, and she was still more than worried that he had discovered something about her past he was just waiting to drop like a bomb.
As if he had been waiting for them, Judd opened the screen door as the two women exited the car. His head was uncharacteristically bare, the straight, black hair slightly damp as if he had just washed it. He was in his working cowboy clothes, a worn, chambray shirt, Levi’s with leather chaps, and boots creased and bent as if his feet had been poured into them.
“Lillian invited you to supper tomorrow night,” Agnes greeted him, stepping aside so that Bess could precede her into the house.
Judd shook his head. “I’m busy,” he muttered.
Bess raised an eyebrow, then bit her tongue to resist saying anything and unnecessarily taunting a man who was obviously twitching for a fight. He seemed to sense her thoughts anyway because he stomped into the living room after the two women and told their retreating backs. “I already have a date.”
Agnes turned to face him with a bright smile on her face. “Is it with Rachel Bree? She’s such a sweet child, and she’s always had a crush on you.”
Judd opened his mouth as if to say something else, then clamped it shut with such a look of regret on his face that Bess decided he didn’t have a date at all, unless it was with a typewriter working on the endless police reports she’d heard him griping about a few nights before.
“I thought I’d make some chicken fried steak for supper. Maybe some apple pie for dessert,” Agnes was saying, wisely changing the subject.
Bess wondered if her mother-in-law was trying to butter Judd up before telling him about Bess’ new job. Did he even have to know about it, Bess thought. She followed Agnes gratefully into the kitchen, hoping to help with the meal and avoid any further conversation with Judd.
She was doomed to disappointment. He strode right behind the two women and plopped himself down in one of the kitchen chairs, straddling it so that the leather on his chaps creaked. Agnes and Bess worked in silence for several minutes, as Bess felt his eyes boring into her back and wished Judd would just evaporate into a wisp of smoke.
“How did the doctor’s visit go?” he finally asked, causing Bess to jump so that she almost spilled the pot of water and potatoes she was placing on the stove to boil.
When Bess didn’t answer Judd right away, Agnes did it for her. “Mama and baby are healthy as expected, and we got some pre-natal vitamins to help keep it that way.”
Judd studied his clean, square fingernails. “Was that before or after Bess wasted Ed Bryan’s time about a job?”
For several heartbeats, nobody moved. Bess listened to the sizzle of the water on the bottom of the potato pan she’d just turned the flame on, to the ticking of the radio clock perched on top of the refrigerator, and the distant howl of one of the dogs in the pens just outside the back door.
Agnes slapped a well-floured steak into the grease already popping in her cast iron skillet, glancing at Bess and frowning slightly. She nodded finally as if to say, this one’s on you, and went back to breading another seasoned piece of meat.
Bess forced herself to look Judd in his black eyes. “How could you know about that already?” she said in a voice not nearly as forceful as she would have liked it to be. “I didn’t even tell him my name yet.”
Judd shrugged. “It’s just as well because I already told him you weren’t available. A laundromat indeed.”
Bess squared her shoulders. “It’s honest work, and it’s work I can do. Well.”
Judd stood up deliberately and placed the chair he had been using under the table with careful precision, almost as if he were trying to hold in his formidable temper. Still, the eyes that turned on Bess flashed fire and burned. “I already told you that baby deserves to be born healthy. Having its mother work anywhere isn’t conducive to that goal, especially not doing a lot of heavy lifting.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You aren’t the boss of me,” she said distinctly, exaggerating the movement of her lips.
He stepped up to her until their toes touched, towering over her. A normal woman would have flinched. The situation brought back too many memories of bullies using their size to make her feel less important. Bess pushed her belly toward him so that Judd, surprised, practically scrambled away.
They stood facing each other, both breathing heavily as if they had just done thirteen rounds in a boxing ring. Finally, Judd sighed and his shoulders slumped. “Let me do this, for Daniel,” he said. Then, through gritted teeth. “Please.”
Bess bit at her lip. “I need money to raise a child, and I need a job to make that money. What, exactly, do you expect me to do?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “We can handle helping you out until you’ve had the baby and then had time to get back on your feet. And there are much better jobs when the time comes than working for Ed Bryan’s sweatshop.”
Bess wasn’t about to admit to Judd Taylor that for her skill-set, a sweatshop was about as good as it gets. Instead, she shuffled her feet and tried to think of an argument that might persuade the tall, stubborn man in front of her into changing his mind.
Finally, all she could come up with was a final plea. “I need to work,” she practically whined, hating the sound of her misery so apparent in the tone of her voice.
As usual, Agnes seemed to sense more than Bess was willing to tell. She stepped up behind the younger woman now, laying a protective hand on Bess’ back that moved in comforting circles. “You could use these next few months to learn a new hobby or skill,” she said. “I read in that magazine at the doctor’s office today an article all about how what the mama reads and puts her mind to while she’s pregnant can have a real positive effect on a baby’s brain.”
“There you go,” Judd said, sounding relieved as if Bess’ distress had actually mattered to him, which couldn’t be possible. “Learn macrame, improve your typing speed, study Greek for all I care. Just do it here at the house where mother can keep an eye on you and feed you right.”
“Speaking of food,” Agnes chuckled, “this dinner is about ready for the table. Would you set the places, Son?”
And just like that, the question of Bess’ working was decided for her. She watched Judd putting plates, napkins and silverware on the table and tried to figure out how one man could be so determined to hate her and yet take care of her all at the same time.
It was going to be a long, long winter.
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