The Reading Room presents And Jill Came Tumbling After by Sidney McCabe

The day of Maddy's funeral dawned as bright and clear as any late summer day any of them had ever known. It didn't seem right that the world could be so beautiful on such a day. In her bedroom Rachel dressed for the funeral.

Cappie lay sleeping peacefully on the bed behind her. She would let him sleep a while longer; no need to wake him just yet. She ran her eyes adoringly over his slowly healing body, smiling despite herself to see this gorgeous man she loved so much dozing as peacefully as a child, glad in her heart that he was home already. Jimmy and Ben were still being kept at Doc Halsey's place as they recovered, but the doctor had allowed Cappie to come home the very next day.

It was early, the sun was only just rising. Rachel walked downstairs and out onto her porch. The air was still cool, touching her skin and rustling her hair in a soothing caress. She sat on the porch swing and watched as the sun continued its journey skyward, painting the sky amazing colors. And she wept.

She wept for the loss of Maddy. For the void that now filled Jack's lovely blue eyes. For the anguish that Jimmy emanated in every look, every word, every gesture. For little Ben, who couldn't quite comprehend the death of his playmate. For everything. She thought she had known pain before coming to Sweetwater: life had dealt her harsh and unforgiving blows. Rachel had lived through them, but had never been quite the same. Coming to Sweetwater, opening her heart once again to love and be loved in return, had pened her up for more hurt than she could ever have imagined. Ike's death, Noah's death, Jesse's turn to a life of crime, Cody's departure, the death of Maddy, and all the hundred and one smaller things in between-- and each hurt just as bad as the last.

Rachel swung harder and felt the wind stir the hem of her skirt, brush her curls back from her forehead. There was just no getting around the fact that once you started to love someone you were giving pain an invitation to visit whenever it got the notion. It wasn't just that the ones you loved could hurt you, it was that their pain could hurt you just as bad as your own. Buck's unfathomable grief at the loss of Ike had pained her just as deeply as Ike's death itself; when Lou fought with the Kid, Rachel's tender heart
had cried right along with them both; and now she was nearly smothering with the pain she knew Jack was too numb to feel herself.

Sighing, Rachel ran through the memories she had already collected during Maddy's short stay in Sweetwater: Maddy running, Maddy jumping, Maddy wrestling on the ground with Adam, playing dolls with Hannah, punching Ben on the shoulder -- "Mummy, he said I hit like a *girl*! I guess I showed him, didn't I, Mummy?" A sweet, crooked smile with the top teeth missing -- "Look, Aunt Rachel, I lost two more! Uncle Kid gave me a whole dollar for them!" A tiny body clinging to Jimmy's strong back -- "Go faster, Uncle Dimmy! Run!"

Rachel didn't know how long she sat there, but footsteps suddenly fell behind her. Cappie emerged from the house, shirtless, wearing only a pair of black pants, his bare feet padding along the wooden porch floors. Two steaming mugs of coffee were in his hands. "Hey, beautiful," he said softly. "Morning," she murmured. She gestured to the coffee. "Is one of those for me?"

He handed her a mug. "Two sugars, no cream, just the way you like it." She took a deep drink. "Mmm, thank you, that's perfect." She stared up at him over the rim of the mug. Never had anything in her life made her as happy as this man did. He was lovely in body and spirit. Despite even the bandages on his bare chest and hands and the mass of scars she knew lay underneath, he was the handsomest man she'd ever seen. And she knew he loved her just as much.

Cappie sat on the railing in front of her, looking down with concerned eyes. "What are you thinkin', sweet lady?"

Rachel smiled wanly. "I'm feelin' guilty, actually."

That surprised him. "Guilty?"

"I'm happy that you're here, and alive, and well. And that makes me feel guilty. What right do I have to be happy?"

Cappie set the mug aside and slipped from the railing to sit next to Rachel. "You have *every* right to be happy, darlin'," he said soothingly. "It doesn't mean you're grievin' any less for Maddy just because you're happy to have me alive. Hell," he went on, teasing, "what woman wouldn't be happy to have a good-lookin', smart as paint fella like Edward Neil Capshaw by her side to love her?"

Rachel laughed at his feigned arrogance. "Why, I can't imagine, to be sure."

"Gimme a kiss, woman," he growled playfully.

They lingered together a while longer, murmuring to one another. Rachel had never been able to open her heart up to anyone the way she could to Cappie, and she was continually amazed by the thoughts she poured out to him. When the sun had risen higher and the morning sky was at last a friendly, welcoming blue, they went inside and finished their preparations for the funeral.

The church bells were ringing, and it seemed as if every man, woman, and child in Sweetwater was walking through the streets toward the small building that wasn't used to holding so many. Rachel saw that the first long pew on the right had been set aside for their small family. She and Cappie slipped into their places next to Buck and May and baby Nate. Rachel looked around her at the beloved faces of her little family and quietly took note. Buck and May, still and solemn, baby Nate fussing in his father's lap;
Teaspoon, looking more and more haggard since the fire, his silver hair pulled neatly back from his face; Lou and Kid, pale shadows of their usual selves, sitting with Adam and Hannah between them. Ben sat in his mother's arms, curled into a ball, staring out with eyes that spoke of childish innocence lost. He, too, was covered in plaster bandages, his swollen face enough to break your heart. Ken and Em were ashen, blinking back tears, Ken's arm resting protectively on Em's shoulders. They had suddenly aged ten
years.

And then Jimmy and Jack, seated together in the middle, so close their shoulders touched. They sat with their hands laced together, both staring straight ahead at the empty pulpit. Rachel was relieved to see that they seemed to have drawn each other close, and prayed that it would last. She had seen how grief could tear people apart. The minister, Reverend Hawkins, arrived and strode to the pulpit. He opened
his Bible and began to speak. "Welcome, friends and family. With this greeting I offer you a challenge: to mark this occasion with the beauty and simplicity of little Maddy's life, to equal its beauty with that of the day outside. For nothing on earth is what it seems to be, and I feel in my heart, with a magnitude no one can deter me from, that Maddy is not lost, only gone before, and I know that we will see her again." He paused, his thick Northern accent stilled for a moment. Then he spoke again, his deep baritone filling the church. "Let us pray."

Rustles filled the church as heads bowed, hands folded. Reverend Hawkins continued, "Father, we come here today to pay tribute to a young life cut untimely short, to remember the child who touched our hearts so completely in her small lifespan, and to try and release the grief which now has such a hold on us. We pray for Maddy's mother, who must be feeling pain we cannot fathom; for the man who loved Maddy as if she were his own and was to become her father; for the playmates who grew alongside her, for the family that loved and nurtured her, and for those of us who never knew her, but were nonetheless touched by what her life was and could have been. Dear Lord, please be with us today and in the days to come. Pay especial attention to Maddy's mother and fold her into your loving embrace. Let her feel your comfort and love in the days to come, let her gain strength from your presence. Let us always remember little Maddy and let her sweet, untainted life be a lesson to us all. Amen."

"Amen," echoed the mourners.

The reverend's eulogy was brief. He spoke of Maddy's birth in England, the love showered on her by her parents, the death of her father, the joy she had found after moving with her mother to Sweetwater. He spoke of God's promise of Heaven, a land better than any they could ever fathom, of the Lord's sorrow upon seeing people suffer. "Suffer the children to come unto Me," the reverend repeated emphatically. "However much we grieve for Maddy's life, we must rest in the knowledge that she is truly in a better place, and her suffering is ended. We must rejoice that we will see her again one day, rejoice in the memory of our days with her, instead of mourning the days with her we have lost. If we cry because the sun has gone from our lives, our tears will only prevent us from seeing the stars. Life is eternal," he
said, "and love is immortal; and death is only a horizon; and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sights. The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched -- they can only be felt with the human heart. Let it be so with the memory of Madeline Louise Kendall."

The congregation sang two hymns, and then the service was over. They filed out into the cemetery that adjoined the church. The reverend spoke a few more somber words, and then Jack threw the first handful of dirt onto the tiny coffin. A small black veil draped over her eyes, resting on her nose. Her expression was unreadable. Jimmy had his hand on her elbow as she knelt. Slowly, the handfuls of dirt fell, and the mourners began to filter out of the graveyard.

Lou stopped beside Jack and spoke, "We'll be waitin' for you at the house."

Jack nodded. "Thank you, Lou." Her tone was flat, even.

Lou waited a moment longer to see if Jack would speak further, but she didn't. Sighing, Lou turned away and gathered her children together, walking away hand in hand with her husband. Soon only Jimmy and Jack were left. Jimmy watched as Jack sank slowly down on the ground beside the fresh grave. With a soft, plaintive moan, she lifted her veil with black gloved hands and turned dark, faraway eyes to her daughter's final resting place. The wind had picked up again and clouds were sifting through the sky.

Jack's hair whipped around her face, Jimmy's long bangs blowing into his eyes. He crouched down next to her, folding his hands, not speaking. "She's really gone," whispered Jack. Jimmy's eyes widened. It was the first time she had actually spoken those words. Up to now she had dealt with the arrangements of her daughter's funeral with an otherworldly calm, as if she were making the arrangement on behalf of someone else. Those words hadn't crossed her lips till now. "Yes," agreed Jimmy. "She's gone."

"I didn't really believe it. It didn't seem real."

"And it seems real now?"

"Too real." The words were followed by a harsh sob. Jimmy fell to his knees beside her and wrapped his arms around her shaking body. These were the first tears she had shed. She clung to him, her hands
clutching his shoulders for dear life. The sobs wracked her slim frame, broken wails from a woman lost. Somehow her pain hurt Jimmy worse than his own. When he spoke, the words seemed to come without having to think about them.

"You're gonna be all right, sweetheart. You really will. For a long time it's gonna be a pain you can't hardly bear, but one day you'll wake up and the hurt'll be less. It'll be there, but you'll be able to stand it. And each day it will get a little bit better, and pretty soon you'll think of your little girl and you'll be able to smile and laugh and remember her without always wantin' to cry. It's a long piece down the road, baby, but I promise you'll get there. I know you will, 'cause you're a strong woman; one of the strongest woman I've ever known."

"Oh, Jimmy," she interrupted huskily, "I'm not strong."

"You are. Everyone knows it. Everyone but you. Right now you feel like fallin' apart, and maybe you think you are, but I know you can make it."

"I don't want to forget her, Jimmy!"

"No one's askin' you to forget, honey."

"I tried so hard, Jimmy. I tried so hard to be a good mother, and I thought I did a good job. I thought I would have my little girl..." She couldn't finish.

Jimmy chose his words carefully. "Sometimes, no matter how much faith we have, we lose people. But we never forget them, Jack. And sometimes it's those memories that give us the faith; the faith to go on."
They said nothing for several more minutes. Gradually Jimmy felt Jack relax in his arms. She kissed the side of his neck. "Jimmy, can I be alone for now?"

He looked into her eyes, searching. "Will you be all right?"

"Yes, fine. I just need to be by myself for a moment."

Jimmy pressed his lips to her forehead. "You know where to find me. I'm here for you." He rose, stretching his long legs, and with one last backward glance, left the cemetery.

Jack remained, humming softly to herself the song Jimmy had sung to Maddy that night that now seemed ages ago. Maddy had adopted it as "her and Uncle Dimmy's" song and bedtime was never complete without her favorite man's rendition of her favorite song.

Jack fell silent again. The sun had settled back down into the horizon before she was able to rise once more and prepare to go. She felt there was more to say, but it was only when she remembered a line she had once read in a book that she could speak. "Oh, Maddy, if I could reach up and hold a star for every time you made me smile, the entire evening sky would be in the palm of my hand."
She laid one fresh, pink tulip on the top of the grave, and then turned for home.

AND JILL CAME TUMBLING AFTER

SIDNEY McCABE

CHAPTER 12


	AND JILL CAME TUMBLING AFTER by SIDNEY McCABE © 2000 CHAPTER 12
The day of Maddy's funeral dawned as bright and clear as any late summer day any of them had ever known. It didn't seem right that the world could be so beautiful on such a day. In her bedroom Rachel dressed for the funeral. Cappie lay sleeping peacefully on the bed behind her. She would let him sleep a while longer; no need to wake him just yet. She ran her eyes adoringly over his slowly healing body, smiling despite herself to see this gorgeous man she loved so much dozing as peacefully as a child, glad in her heart that he was home already. Jimmy and Ben were still being kept at Doc Halsey's place as they recovered, but the doctor had allowed Cappie to come home the very next day. It was early, the sun was only just rising. Rachel walked downstairs and out onto her porch. The air was still cool, touching her skin and rustling her hair in a soothing caress. She sat on the porch swing and watched as the sun continued its journey skyward, painting the sky amazing colors. And she wept. She wept for the loss of Maddy. For the void that now filled Jack's lovely blue eyes. For the anguish that Jimmy emanated in every look, every word, every gesture. For little Ben, who couldn't quite comprehend the death of his playmate. For everything. She thought she had known pain before coming to Sweetwater: life had dealt her harsh and unforgiving blows. Rachel had lived through them, but had never been quite the same. Coming to Sweetwater, opening her heart once again to love and be loved in return, had pened her up for more hurt than she could ever have imagined. Ike's death, Noah's death, Jesse's turn to a life of crime, Cody's departure, the death of Maddy, and all the hundred and one smaller things in between-- and each hurt just as bad as the last. Rachel swung harder and felt the wind stir the hem of her skirt, brush her curls back from her forehead. There was just no getting around the fact that once you started to love someone you were giving pain an invitation to visit whenever it got the notion. It wasn't just that the ones you loved could hurt you, it was that their pain could hurt you just as bad as your own. Buck's unfathomable grief at the loss of Ike had pained her just as deeply as Ike's death itself; when Lou fought with the Kid, Rachel's tender heart had cried right along with them both; and now she was nearly smothering with the pain she knew Jack was too numb to feel herself. Sighing, Rachel ran through the memories she had already collected during Maddy's short stay in Sweetwater: Maddy running, Maddy jumping, Maddy wrestling on the ground with Adam, playing dolls with Hannah, punching Ben on the shoulder -- "Mummy, he said I hit like a girl! I guess I showed him, didn't I, Mummy?" A sweet, crooked smile with the top teeth missing -- "Look, Aunt Rachel, I lost two more! Uncle Kid gave me a whole dollar for them!" A tiny body clinging to Jimmy's strong back -- "Go faster, Uncle Dimmy! Run!" Rachel didn't know how long she sat there, but footsteps suddenly fell behind her. Cappie emerged from the house, shirtless, wearing only a pair of black pants, his bare feet padding along the wooden porch floors. Two steaming mugs of coffee were in his hands. "Hey, beautiful," he said softly. "Morning," she murmured. She gestured to the coffee. "Is one of those for me?" He handed her a mug. "Two sugars, no cream, just the way you like it." She took a deep drink. "Mmm, thank you, that's perfect." She stared up at him over the rim of the mug. Never had anything in her life made her as happy as this man did. He was lovely in body and spirit. Despite even the bandages on his bare chest and hands and the mass of scars she knew lay underneath, he was the handsomest man she'd ever seen. And she knew he loved her just as much. Cappie sat on the railing in front of her, looking down with concerned eyes. "What are you thinkin', sweet lady?" Rachel smiled wanly. "I'm feelin' guilty, actually." That surprised him. "Guilty?" "I'm happy that you're here, and alive, and well. And that makes me feel guilty. What right do I have to be happy?" *Cappie set the mug aside and slipped from the railing to sit next to Rachel. "You have every* right to be happy, darlin'," he said soothingly. "It doesn't mean you're grievin' any less for Maddy just because you're happy to have me alive. Hell," he went on, teasing, "what woman wouldn't be happy to have a good-lookin', smart as paint fella like Edward Neil Capshaw by her side to love her?" Rachel laughed at his feigned arrogance. "Why, I can't imagine, to be sure." "Gimme a kiss, woman," he growled playfully. They lingered together a while longer, murmuring to one another. Rachel had never been able to open her heart up to anyone the way she could to Cappie, and she was continually amazed by the thoughts she poured out to him. When the sun had risen higher and the morning sky was at last a friendly, welcoming blue, they went inside and finished their preparations for the funeral. The church bells were ringing, and it seemed as if every man, woman, and child in Sweetwater was walking through the streets toward the small building that wasn't used to holding so many. Rachel saw that the first long pew on the right had been set aside for their small family. She and Cappie slipped into their places next to Buck and May and baby Nate. Rachel looked around her at the beloved faces of her little family and quietly took note. Buck and May, still and solemn, baby Nate fussing in his father's lap; Teaspoon, looking more and more haggard since the fire, his silver hair pulled neatly back from his face; Lou and Kid, pale shadows of their usual selves, sitting with Adam and Hannah between them. Ben sat in his mother's arms, curled into a ball, staring out with eyes that spoke of childish innocence lost. He, too, was covered in plaster bandages, his swollen face enough to break your heart. Ken and Em were ashen, blinking back tears, Ken's arm resting protectively on Em's shoulders. They had suddenly aged ten years. And then Jimmy and Jack, seated together in the middle, so close their shoulders touched. They sat with their hands laced together, both staring straight ahead at the empty pulpit. Rachel was relieved to see that they seemed to have drawn each other close, and prayed that it would last. She had seen how grief could tear people apart. The minister, Reverend Hawkins, arrived and strode to the pulpit. He opened his Bible and began to speak. "Welcome, friends and family. With this greeting I offer you a challenge: to mark this occasion with the beauty and simplicity of little Maddy's life, to equal its beauty with that of the day outside. For nothing on earth is what it seems to be, and I feel in my heart, with a magnitude no one can deter me from, that Maddy is not lost, only gone before, and I know that we will see her again." He paused, his thick Northern accent stilled for a moment. Then he spoke again, his deep baritone filling the church. "Let us pray." Rustles filled the church as heads bowed, hands folded. Reverend Hawkins continued, "Father, we come here today to pay tribute to a young life cut untimely short, to remember the child who touched our hearts so completely in her small lifespan, and to try and release the grief which now has such a hold on us. We pray for Maddy's mother, who must be feeling pain we cannot fathom; for the man who loved Maddy as if she were his own and was to become her father; for the playmates who grew alongside her, for the family that loved and nurtured her, and for those of us who never knew her, but were nonetheless touched by what her life was and could have been. Dear Lord, please be with us today and in the days to come. Pay especial attention to Maddy's mother and fold her into your loving embrace. Let her feel your comfort and love in the days to come, let her gain strength from your presence. Let us always remember little Maddy and let her sweet, untainted life be a lesson to us all. Amen." "Amen," echoed the mourners. The reverend's eulogy was brief. He spoke of Maddy's birth in England, the love showered on her by her parents, the death of her father, the joy she had found after moving with her mother to Sweetwater. He spoke of God's promise of Heaven, a land better than any they could ever fathom, of the Lord's sorrow upon seeing people suffer. "Suffer the children to come unto Me," the reverend repeated emphatically. "However much we grieve for Maddy's life, we must rest in the knowledge that she is truly in a better place, and her suffering is ended. We must rejoice that we will see her again one day, rejoice in the memory of our days with her, instead of mourning the days with her we have lost. If we cry because the sun has gone from our lives, our tears will only prevent us from seeing the stars. Life is eternal," he said, "and love is immortal; and death is only a horizon; and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sights. The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched -- they can only be felt with the human heart. Let it be so with the memory of Madeline Louise Kendall." The congregation sang two hymns, and then the service was over. They filed out into the cemetery that adjoined the church. The reverend spoke a few more somber words, and then Jack threw the first handful of dirt onto the tiny coffin. A small black veil draped over her eyes, resting on her nose. Her expression was unreadable. Jimmy had his hand on her elbow as she knelt. Slowly, the handfuls of dirt fell, and the mourners began to filter out of the graveyard. Lou stopped beside Jack and spoke, "We'll be waitin' for you at the house." Jack nodded. "Thank you, Lou." Her tone was flat, even. Lou waited a moment longer to see if Jack would speak further, but she didn't. Sighing, Lou turned away and gathered her children together, walking away hand in hand with her husband. Soon only Jimmy and Jack were left. Jimmy watched as Jack sank slowly down on the ground beside the fresh grave. With a soft, plaintive moan, she lifted her veil with black gloved hands and turned dark, faraway eyes to her daughter's final resting place. The wind had picked up again and clouds were sifting through the sky. Jack's hair whipped around her face, Jimmy's long bangs blowing into his eyes. He crouched down next to her, folding his hands, not speaking. "She's really gone," whispered Jack. Jimmy's eyes widened. It was the first time she had actually spoken those words. Up to now she had dealt with the arrangements of her daughter's funeral with an otherworldly calm, as if she were making the arrangement on behalf of someone else. Those words hadn't crossed her lips till now. "Yes," agreed Jimmy. "She's gone." "I didn't really believe it. It didn't seem real." "And it seems real now?" "Too real." The words were followed by a harsh sob. Jimmy fell to his knees beside her and wrapped his arms around her shaking body. These were the first tears she had shed. She clung to him, her hands clutching his shoulders for dear life. The sobs wracked her slim frame, broken wails from a woman lost. Somehow her pain hurt Jimmy worse than his own. When he spoke, the words seemed to come without having to think about them. "You're gonna be all right, sweetheart. You really will. For a long time it's gonna be a pain you can't hardly bear, but one day you'll wake up and the hurt'll be less. It'll be there, but you'll be able to stand it. And each day it will get a little bit better, and pretty soon you'll think of your little girl and you'll be able to smile and laugh and remember her without always wantin' to cry. It's a long piece down the road, baby, but I promise you'll get there. I know you will, 'cause you're a strong woman; one of the strongest woman I've ever known." "Oh, Jimmy," she interrupted huskily, "I'm not strong." "You are. Everyone knows it. Everyone but you. Right now you feel like fallin' apart, and maybe you think you are, but I know you can make it." "I don't want to forget her, Jimmy!" "No one's askin' you to forget, honey." "I tried so hard, Jimmy. I tried so hard to be a good mother, and I thought I did a good job. I thought I would have my little girl..." She couldn't finish. Jimmy chose his words carefully. "Sometimes, no matter how much faith we have, we lose people. But we never forget them, Jack. And sometimes it's those memories that give us the faith; the faith to go on." They said nothing for several more minutes. Gradually Jimmy felt Jack relax in his arms. She kissed the side of his neck. "Jimmy, can I be alone for now?" He looked into her eyes, searching. "Will you be all right?" "Yes, fine. I just need to be by myself for a moment." Jimmy pressed his lips to her forehead. "You know where to find me. I'm here for you." He rose, stretching his long legs, and with one last backward glance, left the cemetery.** Jack remained, humming softly to herself the song Jimmy had sung to Maddy that night that now seemed ages ago. Maddy had adopted it as "her and Uncle Dimmy's" song and bedtime was never complete without her favorite man's rendition of her favorite song. Jack fell silent again. The sun had settled back down into the horizon before she was able to rise once more and prepare to go. She felt there was more to say, but it was only when she remembered a line she had once read in a book that she could speak. "Oh, Maddy, if I could reach up and hold a star for every time you made me smile, the entire evening sky would be in the palm of my hand." She laid one fresh, pink tulip on the top of the grave, and then turned for home.
CHAPTER 1 ¤ CHAPTER 2 ¤ CHAPTER 3 ¤ CHAPTER 4 ¤ CHAPTER 5 ¤ CHAPTER 6 ¤ CHAPTER 7 ¤ CHAPTER 8 ¤ CHAPTER 9 ¤ CHAPTER 10 ¤ CHAPTER 11 ¤ CHAPTER 12 ¤ CHAPTER 13 TO BE CONTINUED...