Free Mama Rocks the Empty Cradle by Nora Deloach Page A

thick lips pouted. “What you doing out there?” she asked, her angry eyes glaring at me.
    Before I had a chance to answer, Mama replied, “I’ve come to pay my respects for the loss of your sister, Rose. You have to forgive me for not getting out sooner. You see, I’ve had an operation on my feet and I can’t get around—”
    The look on Rose’s face changed instantly from annoyance to sympathy. “Lord, Miss Candi,” she exclaimed, “you don’t need to be out here with cut-up feet. Come on in and let me prop them up for you.”
    Mama, who had taken a handkerchief from her purse, wiped the sweat from her face. “I appreciate that,” she said.
    And so Rose Childs and I helped Mama inside the trailer.
    “I’m sorry about Cricket’s death,” Mama began once she was comfortably sitting on the sofa inside the trailer and sipping from the glass of iced tea Rose had given her. “I can’t imagine who in Otis would have done such a terrible, terrible thing.”
    Rose’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Cricket wasbrazen and did things she ought not have done, but she didn’t deserve to die like that,” she told Mama.
    “Do you have any idea who could have attacked her?” Mama asked.
    “No.” Rose’s voice was so low and faint we almost didn’t hear her.
    But Mama nodded thoughtfully. And once again she changed the subject. “I’ve never noticed that cemetery. Tell me about it.”
    “It’s been there almost twenty-one years,” Rose answered, almost too quickly.
    I could see that Rose’s reaction had an effect on Mama’s thoughts.
    “Everyone who’s buried in that cemetery is a child, a baby,” I pointed out, thinking that this was the way Mama wanted the conversation to proceed.
    Rose nodded. “My grandmother delivered all those babies herself.”
    “It’s odd that they’re buried in her cemetery and not with their own families.”
    Rose looked away. “I suppose …” she said. There was a slight tremor in her voice.
    Mama smiled compassionately. “Is there a story behind that cemetery, Rose?” she asked in a tone I knew was meant to get Rose to feel close enough to share something that might be personal.
    Rose didn’t answer. She sat as if mistrusting, now glaring at us. I couldn’t help but think that this young woman was smart. She’d quickly figured out that Sarah Jenkins, Annie Mae Gregory, and CarrieSmalls were looking for information from her about her sister’s murder for distribution throughout the county. Now, she was trying to decide whether Mama and I had the same motive.
    Mama leaned forward. She touched Rose’s clasped hands. “If there is a story behind your cemetery, I’d like to hear it,” she said, her voice low and gentle.
    When Rose didn’t speak, I knew Mama’s next strategy. She’d want us to sit quietly and allow a feeling of trust to grow in the room without words. Rose’s body tightened like she was feeling something terrible. A painful look swept across her face. Finally, her shoulders relaxed a fraction and she said edgily, “My grandmother, Lucy Bell Childs, was a midwife. That’s all there is to that cemetery.”
    I believe Mama and I reached the same conclusion at about the same time: Rose Childs wasn’t going to tell us any more.
    But Mama gave Rose a long, serious look. “Rose, I’ve got to ask you this and I want you to be honest with me.”
    Rose’s lips thinned.
    Mama waited for a moment before she continued. “Does anybody in your family have little Morgan hidden away?” she asked frankly.
    Rose didn’t blink. But she spoke in a confused voice, as if she couldn’t believe Mama’s question. “No! Nobody in my family knows what has happened to Morgan. But—” She stopped.
    Mama pressed, “But what, Rose?”
    Rose sighed. The sound seemed to come from somewhere deep inside of her little body. “Our whole family is praying for that baby—day and night, we’re praying that the Lord will keep that child safe.”
    Mama frowned. When she