“Nothing to fuss over.” Seth’s reply came quick, a barrier going up as if to hold back any intruders to his private concerns.
Brenda nodded. She wanted to tell him about her day, about the gnawing void that spurred her cleaning frenzy, but the words lodged in her throat, unsaid. Instead, she watched him, noting the crease in his brow and the way he pushed his food around the bowl.
“Sure,” she said finally, the single word heavy with unvoiced thoughts. She stood to clear the table, her motions precise and controlled, the clatter of dishes filling the space where conversation once lived.
After the dishes were done, Brenda swept the broom across the wooden floor with vigor, her mind a whirlwind as chaotic as the dust she stirred up. Her blond hair had come loose from its bun, strands sticking to her damp forehead. She moved furniture, the usual spark in her green gaze dulled by an inner turmoil.
“Brenda, you’ve been at this all evening,” Seth’s voice broke through the rhythmic swish of the broom. “Isn’t it time to rest now?”
She paused, leaning on the broom handle, her back to him. “Just need to get it done, is all,” Brenda replied. The truth clawed at her insides, begging for release, yet she couldn’t bring herself to voice it. Not yet.
Seth watched her for a moment longer before nodding and stepping back, his unease a silent shadow in the dimly lit room.
Later, as they lay side by side in the darkness, the silence was a tangible presence between them. When Seth’s hand reached out, seeking hers, Brenda turned away, her heart heavy. For the first time since they’d shared a bed, she couldn’t bear the intimacy, not with the weight of her secret pressing down on her. She must be barren. There was no other reason for her not to be expecting.
“I just...I need to think,” she whispered into the pillow, hoping he would understand her need for space. Her thoughts raced, grasping for solutions where none seemed to exist.
A memory surfaced, clear and promising – the book of receipts at the general store, its pages filled with wisdom on the medicinal properties of herbs. Her knowledge in that area was strong. Maybe there was an answer waiting for her within those pages. Yes, she decided, tomorrow she would buy that book. It was a plan, something to hold onto amidst the uncertainty.
“All right,” came Seth’s soft reply, confusion and concern mingling in his voice.
*****
THE TEXAS SUN CLIMBEDhigh as Brenda made her way to the general store. The wooden door creaked open, announcing her arrival. She beelined for the shelf where the book of receipts nestled between jars of molasses and tins of tea.
“Morning, Brenda,” greeted Mr. Parsons from behind the counter, tipping his hat.
“Morning,” she replied with a polite nod.
Her fingers danced over the leather-bound spine before she plucked the tome from its perch. Flipping through the pages, Brenda found what she was looking for: an herbal remedy for barrenness, a concoction of promise. The ingredients were listed with care, but one, in particular, caught her eye – an herb she didn’t recognize.
“Never seen this one before,” she murmured to herself, tracing the name with her finger.
She purchased the book without hesitation, the coins clinking softly as they exchanged hands. Outside, Brenda shielded her eyes and thought of Susan Dailey. If anyone knew about healing herbs, it would be Elizabeth’s sister, blessed with a brood of her own.
A short stroll down the dusty road brought her to Susan’s homestead. Susan was seated on the porch, peeling apples with practiced ease.
“Hey there, Susan,” Brenda called out, as she approached.
“Hello, Brenda! What brings you?” Susan asked, setting aside her work.
“Got a minute?” Brenda asked, her tone casual but her green eyes serious.
“Of course,” Susan smiled warmly, patting the seat beside her.
Brenda took the offered spot, the wood of the porch warm beneath her. “I’m looking for an herb,” she began, hesitating only slightly. “One that might help...with womanly troubles.”
Susan’s brow furrowed with concern, but she nodded encouragingly.
“Know anyone in these parts who deals with healing herbs?” Brenda asked, hoping her friend could point her in the right direction.
“Let me think...” Susan tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Most folks go to Old Man Jenkins for poultices. But for something special, there’s a lady down the road. Got a knack for herbs, they say. She delivered all my babies.”
“Would you happen to know where I can find her?” Brenda leaned in, a spark of hope igniting within her.
“Sure do,” Susan replied, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ll write down directions. You be careful now, you hear?”
“Always am,” Brenda answered with a grin.
