Page from a Tennessee Journal (AmazonEncore Edition)

to open a package was of small matter. Her husband had gotten her a gift, and it wasn’t even her birthday. But it wasn’t a butcher-paper-wrapped surprise that she’d wanted from Alex when she climbed into bed beside him last night.
    First, she had debated if she should take off her own clothes or let him do it. When she saw him with his eyes closed and the kerosene lamp dampened, she shakily stood beside the shut chifforobe and, in full view in the dimly lit room, shed her corset and donned her summer gown. Alex never opened his eyes that she could tell, and by the time she crawled next to him, she was certain he was asleep. Perplexed, she finally eased off to dream, wondering what he would expect when he came after her in the morning. Whatever it was, she was determined to give it to him.
    When she finally let this morning float into her mind, she quietly turned her head to the pillow beside her. Like yesterday, Alex’s side of the bed was empty. A quick frown furrowed her brow, but she banished it just as fast as it came. She climbed out of bed and hurried to dress. She had to ready breakfast for her husband, and she had to be ready for whatever else Alex might want this morning. Eula giggled. Not since their first year together had he ever wanted her in the morning. She said a quick prayer for forgiveness at the sinful thought as she hurried to the kitchen.
    Her mind lingered on the faded warmth of two nights past as she swung into her kitchen to find Alex sitting in a chair, a dusting rag in his hand, his head bent down over something sitting on the floor. Her gasp brought Alex’s head up sharply from the object he was polishing. It was the smile on his face and the pure delight shining from his eyes that first made her feel like she’d fallen through February ice. She didn’t know how long she stood there staring at her husband and the baby rocker. But she supposed it was long enough for him to speak first.
    “Look what else I’ve got.” He pointed to the butcher-wrapped package he’d brought in yesterday, completely ignoring the pain that spilled out all over her at the sight of the twenty-year-old cradle.
    Alex had cut down the trees and sawn and hammered the cedar and elm pieces into place with his own hands. It had taken him over three months to ready it for their child. With their own precious baby so long gone, how could he bear to touch that wood again? Before she could nod her head nay or yea, Alex tore into the paper wrappings. Inside, the painted porcelain face of a child’s doll emerged, its blonde hair made of bleached horsetail. As the paper came off, arms, legs, and a body stuffed of excelsior stared up at her.
    “Alex, it’s a baby doll?” Her question matched the look on her face. One heavy arm pointed to the toy and then swung to the cradle Alex stroked with such tenderness. What had brought his thoughts to their dead daughter after all these years? “What am I to do with a baby doll?”
    “I’m gonna set you down, Eula Mae.” Alex walked over to her and slipped both hands to her shoulders.
    When he looked at her, Eula could have sworn that she saw real caring in those blue eyes. Was this the way of men after twenty-one years of marriage? Did they blow hot one minute and then act like you mattered no more than a gnat the next? Before she could blink again, he pulled her close, hugged her to his chest, and propelled her toward the kitchen chair he always took.
    “I couldn’t have done no better.” He brushed her forehead with his lips. “I got to get your breakfast on.” It was the only thing that came to mind.
    “That’s just it, Eula. You been cookin’ and cleanin’ this place since the day I brought you here. Brought you to a po’ piece of land.” He took her big work-reddened hands in his.
    Of all the things that she hated about her large, awkward body, her hands came high on the list. She felt Alex’s strong fingers stroke them like they were made of the most delicate Nashville silk. He brought them to his chest.
    “You’re a Thornton girl, you deserve better.”
    “I been a McNaughton woman for twenty-one years.” What was he saying to her?
    “You’re the best wife I could have picked. You keep this place spotless and your cookin’ is more than tolerable.” He lowered her hands to his knees. “I ain’t never heard a mean, nor a nay-sayin’, word out of you.”
    “Work ain’t nothin’ to me, Alex. I’m the oldest girl with four brothers.” She