After the Storm

“She’s saying a Cherokee prayer for him,” Alisha explained in a soft whisper. “To ward off evil.”

Miss Mozelle kissed the baby, then put him safely back into his little bed, seemingly satisfied that she’d done her job.

“Take this here,” she told Alisha later, handing her a packet made of cheesecloth tacked together with string. “It’s wild cherry bark. Brew you some tea—it’s good for the blood. You need to rebuild your blood now, honey. Lady’s slipper leaves will do the same, but I ain’t got any of them right now.” Then she’d wagged a long finger. “And remember, if the colic takes little Callum, just wrap a warm towel around his tummy. That’ll soothe it right away.”

“Thank you, Miss Mozelle,” Alisha said, grateful for the kind woman’s knowledge and wisdom. Alisha felt safe with Miss Mozelle. But sometimes she also felt raw and exposed to the woman’s keen intuitions. From the moment they’d met, Miss Mozelle had watched her closely, as if she already knew why Alisha had come home to Dover Mountain. Alisha had confided in the wise older woman, to a certain degree, at least. There were some things she couldn’t share with anyone, not even Miss Mozelle.

“You got some healing to do, don’t you, precious? That’s all right by me. Me and the good Lord, we’re watching out for you. You can rest easy now.” Miss Mozelle told Alisha that later in the afternoon, after she’d sent all the well-wishers on their way, telling them mother and child needed to rest.

All the well-wishers but one, of course.

Jared Murdock was still here. Maybe Miss Mozelle had finally met her match.

As if Alisha’s thinking about the man had summoned him, he appeared in the bedroom door with a soft smile on his rugged face. “Did you get any rest?”

Alisha stretched, then grinned. “Yes, I did, actually. Callum had his lunch feeding and then we both had a nice nap. But I think I need to get up and move around some more now though. Miss Mozelle—”

He held up a hand. “I know, I know. She said you had to keep the blood circulating through your system. Said—let’s see if I can remember—the only way to get over being weak is to get on with being strong.”

Alisha had heard that same advice many times since coming here. And she supposed that was exactly what she’d done all along. She’d been weak once, but now she had to be strong. For her son’s sake.

“Miss Mozelle is an amazing woman,” Alisha said as she slowly eased up off the bed. Taking the thick floral wrapper that Jared handed to her, she allowed him to help her pull it over her flannel gown.

“Everyone seems scared of her,” Jared replied, his touch on her arm comforting and warm.

“As well they should be. Miss Mozelle believes in the old ways of the mountain people.”

“I kind of gathered that.”

“She’s had a hard life here on the mountain, but she’s educated. Her father, Jasper Cooleridge, wanted all of his children to have an education, but especially his firstborn. She attended Spelman College in Atlanta.”

Jared looked surprised. “Wow, that’s one of the best African-American colleges in the South.”

Alisha laughed, fluffed her braid. “Yes, and she’d be the first to tell you that.” Clasping her hands, she continued. Telling him about Miss Mozelle was much safer than talking about herself. “Her father died the year before she started school, but her mother urged Miss Mozelle to go on to college. She was studying to become a doctor—something unheard of for a black woman in that day and time—then her mother passed away during Mozelle’s junior year at college. Mozelle didn’t hesitate. She came home to Dover Mountain to take care of her three younger siblings.

“Once they were old enough to look after themselves, she finished up at Spelman, then went to nursing school. She became certified as a nurse/midwife at Emory University, while she worked part-time as a waitress in a diner near the college. She could have worked in Atlanta, but she came home to the mountain.”

“Is she married?”

“No, she never married. Doesn’t have children, either. Her life was always devoted to her family. These last twenty years have been devoted to helping Dr. Sloane deliver babies safely. Actually, she helps him with most of his patients.”

Alisha wondered if that’s how her life would be here on the mountain. Would she spend the next thirty-five or forty years alone the way Miss Mozelle had?

“You look so sad,” Jared said, bringing her mind back to the woman who’d helped her heal.

Alisha managed a smile for him, and reminded herself that she was safe and she had a beautiful baby boy. She wasn’t alone. She had nothing to complain about. So she went back to talking about her friend. “I just admire her so much. She sacrificed a lot. She’s worked hard all her life, fighting for the things she believes in. She marched in Selma, Alabama, with Dr. Martin Luther King.”

Jared crossed his hands over his sweater. “Impressive. No wonder she doesn’t take any bunk from anyone.”

“No. She’s strong and sure, and she’s done a fine job with her two younger brothers and her sister. Their parents left them a trust fund for college. But Miss Mozelle never used that money. She worked her way through nursing school and midwife certification. She gave her money to the other three for their education. Now they’re all married with children and good steady jobs, scattered around the country. And they send her monthly checks—which she puts away in case they need the money back someday.”

“Why’d she become a midwife?”

“She doesn’t talk about that very much, but I think she wanted to do something to help the poor women on this mountain. I think she relies on her instincts, her knowledge, and the old ways a lot. All the women on the mountain trust her to do the right thing—if Miss Mozelle can’t help you, she’ll get you to the nearest doctor or clinic so you’ll be all right.”

“Well, I’m glad she’s here,” Jared said as he sank back against the window frame. “I have my doubts about Dr. Sloane.”

“He’s a kind soul really, once you get past the crusty exterior.”

“And the alcohol on his breath.”

Alisha decided not to tell Jared all there was to know about Dr. Sloane. The man was so tormented, nothing could reach him now. Best to be discreet and not gossip about the doctor’s private miseries. “He’s very efficient when he’s sober,” she said. “But then, even though they constantly argue and fuss at each other, Dr. Sloane and Miss Mozelle have helped out everyone on Dover Mountain at one time or another.”

“And they haven’t come to blows yet, I guess. That’s good,” Jared replied, his brain awhirl with more questions. “Only, you got stuck with me instead.”

“We did okay,” she said, her gaze moving over to the baby sleeping within her reach. “Miss Mozelle says Callum is twice blessed.”

“Oh, really, how so?”

She lowered her head, embarrassed even to say it. “She says he has me for a mother, and now he has you for a protector.”

Alisha could tell this made Jared uncomfortable, too. He stood up straight, stared at the baby, glanced back at Alisha, then settled back on the wall again, obviously at a loss for words.

“You don’t have to listen to that kind of talk,” she said, a tiny bit of disappointment moving through her system as she eased toward the hall. “I love Miss Mozelle, but she can be a bit overwhelming if you don’t know her. Just remember, she has a heart of gold, but not even she can predict the future. She’d tell you herself only God knows that. She’s the one who got me back involved in the church.”

At his look of interest, Alisha wished she hadn’t mentioned that. Jared Murdock didn’t need to know the details of her life.

“So you attend regularly then?”

“Yes,” she said, deciding this was a safe topic. “I attend and I volunteer two afternoons a week as a mentor for the youth group. Those teenagers need some positive guidance.”

He helped her make her way across the den toward the fireplace. “What do you do to help them?”

“I mostly listen,” Alisha said, her body protesting the short walk, her legs wobbly and weak. “You know, teenagers are the same anywhere. The big city, a small mountain town. It doesn’t matter where they live or how much money or social standing they have, they all have the same problems.”

“Such as Rayanne’s being pregnant?”

She nodded, one hand on the pain in her back as she eased down into a chair by the fire. “Yes. Poor girl. Sixteen and having a baby. And the father refuses to marry her. I could just shake that Jimmy Barrett. He sure led her right down the garden path.”

“I take it you don’t approve of the boy.”

She glanced over at Jared, not sure what to expect since she didn’t know where he stood in the faith and good works department, but all she saw in his dark eyes was polite curiosity. “No, I don’t approve of him. He’s twenty-three years old and a charmer. He makes pretty good money doing yard work and working on cars, but he’s lazy and only wants to have a good time, spends his spare time on the computer, e-mailing his friends, and he spends most of his money on music, beer and video games. He hasn’t offered either marriage or money to Rayanne.”

“So you counsel her?”

“I try. She doesn’t want to give the baby up for adoption, but her parents are having a hard time as it is. Her father, Tate, worked at the local outlet store and manufacturing company at the base of the mountain, but then it shut down and put a lot of people out of work, including him. Now they just clean and maintain the few cabins we have left to rent to tourists and take on odd jobs here and there to make extra money.”

She could almost see his mind churning with more questions. “What type of manufacturing?”