He left her alone again with Mercy. She'd known he would, but didn't he see that she just wasn't capable anymore?

She looked over at her daughter, who was playing with her lunch more than she was eating it. Though she had recovered from being yelled at, she didn't bang her spoon today, which made Ruth feel terrible.

She opened the oven door. The pie was a lovely golden brown, so she took the thick towels and pulled the pie pan out of the oven. She hated the smell of vinegar, but it did lend itself to making a nice custard-like pie and it'd be great for cleaning too.

Mercy took a nap after lunch and the day continued to drag slowly by.

Ruth noticed when it was over an hour after the time he'd come home yesterday. She wouldn't have blamed Kid if he decided never to come back. She hadn't exactly made their homelife joyful. But he came through the door not long after.

"Where were you?" Ruth asked before he could utter a greeting.

There was accusing suspicion laced in her voice that surprised him. "Some elderly lady wanted me to hang a shelf for her. She paid in cash." He held up the money just in case she didn't believe him.

"So of course you just had to stay late and do it right then."

"Would you rather we starve to death?"

"No, but I'd rather you be here. You're staying away on purpose, aren't you? You don't want to be near me."

"Why would you think that?" he asked angrily. "Haven't I shown I love you by taking care of the house and Mercy? Haven't I told you I love you enough times? I'm showing it now by providing for our family."

"Don't make excuses. You blame me for being this way, don't you? Even for losing the baby?"

"I don't!" He ran the heal of his palm across his forehead in sheer frustration and blew out air in an effort to release some of the inner pressure he felt. "I don't know how much longer I can take this."

"Then go. Get out. I don't need you!" She punctuated the last remark with the slamming of the bedroom door.

She'd did it again, she reflected when she was alone. Argued with Kid when she really didn't want to. He had bore up under it tolerably well, which made her feel worse. Why did she keep hurting the people she loved? She'd always had a temper, but this was out of hand.

"Heal me," she begged, but once again there was no immediate result from the prayer. It was a cruel joke. A faith healer who hadn't been able to heal her baby, who couldn't heal her husband, and now couldn't even get healing herself. What good was she?

She felt so alone. She couldn't even feel God anymore and that made her angry and even more depressed. "Where are You? Why are You hiding Your face from me?" For that's what it felt like and maybe her anger at Kid being late had really been anger with God for fear He'd abandoned her.

"Take my life," she pleaded at the end of her rope. "Or help me live with this one."

She cried herself to sleep in the silence.

sss

Kid slept in Mercy's room that night because he didn't want to add to Ruth's anguish. He knew he hadn't said the right words to ease her fears, but he did pray for her.

It was a Sunday the next morning and he wasn't surprised when she didn't come out of her room. He'd expected it, in fact. He and Mercy didn't go to church because he knew Ruth wouldn't.

Sometime in the afternoon, there was a knock at the door. It was the midwife come to visit.

"I don't know if Sister Ruth'll want to see you," Kid explained. Just cause you'd be a painful reminder to her, not because she didn't appreciate everything you did and tried to do."

"Reverend Meachum told me she hasn't come to church the past few Sundays. He thought maybe I could be of help since I'm a woman. And not only that, but I do more than just deliver babies. If there's a medical problem, I might be able to help."

"It's not a medical problem. Her spirits are just low."

"Let me just try speaking with her. I won't stay if I'm not welcome."

Kid didn't see what good it would do, but he knocked on the bedroom door and called, "Ms. Harriet's here to visit a spell. Can she come in?"

Ruth said yes, more out of politeness than desire to see her Kid figured, but they went in. She was dressed but only because it didn't look as if she'd ever changed out of them. They were uncharacteristically wrinkly.

"How do you feel?" the midwife asked.

"I've felt better," she answered with a grim smile.

"Be honest with me. I want to know everything."

Ruth looked to Kid and then sighed deeply. She didn't see how it would help to tell her everything, but what did she have to lose? Maybe if she explained everything in more detail, Kid would at least understand more of what she was going through.

The midwife listened with sympathy to her and then said, "It doesn't help that you're mourning, but even women who still have their baby with them go through what you're going through."

"Really?" Ruth asked. She'd never heard tell of it before, but she supposed many women didn't care to admit to melancholia for fear of judgment. She knew the feeling. She'd tried to hide it too.

"And I think it's as dangerous as influenza and that medicine can help."

"You have medicine that helps this?" Kid asked, astonished.

"I do. It's called St. John's Wort. It's good for nervous disorders, and it can be made into a tea."

Ruth was hesitant to take it. She hardly ever took medication. She wasn't opposed to it per se, but she always went to the Lord first and that had always been enough before for her adult life thus far. "How strong is it?"

"It's just a plant, a simple herb. I've never known people who were not able to stop taking it if they wanted to if that's what's worrying you."

Still, she hesitated.

"You haven't failed," Kid said practically reading her mind. "God uses many ways to help us. Maybe this is the way He's answering your prayer this time. And you know, it takes faith to trust that God's provided you a way out with St. John's Wort too."

It wasn't a sin to use medicine, she knew that. St. Luke himself had been a physician and the good Lord had made the plant with the properties to heal.

Ruth nodded and looked at the midwife. "I'd like to try it."

Ms. Harriet looked pleased and went straight to the kitchen to turn it into tea.

"It's very earthy tasting," Ruth commented after taking a sip.

"A polite way of saying it tastes like dirt," the midwife said with a chuckle. "I know it does. It's supposed to, but it will help despite its unpleasantness."

"How long will I have to drink this?" Ruth wanted to know.

"I'd take it a few months at least. Then wean yourself off it and see how you feel, but you should feel a difference in just a few days, so don't let that fool you into thinking you don't need it anymore."

Ms. Harriet also coupled the tea with prayer for which Ruth was glad. She didn't feel she had the strength for praying, but now she did have the tiniest spark of hope that the Lord wasn't going to leave her like this.