by S. C. Wilson
Jesse had spent months agonizing over something exactly like this. She was scared to death Abby would have trouble giving birth. She felt as if she were trapped in a nightmare. It took everything inside her to tamp down her fear, but she knew she had to. Abby and the baby depended on her. The thought steeled her. “Let’s try again. Slow, deep breaths,” she said gently, coaxing Abby to lean up and push. “She’s got to be getting close.”
Abby leaned forward, pushing with every ounce of strength her small frame could muster. The seconds until she was spent felt like hours. She collapsed back on the bed. “How ‘bout now? Can you see it?” The words were barely a miserable groan. Her tears would not stop.
“No. I don’t see anything. What can I do?”
Abby licked her dried lips. “Can you get me some water?”
Jesse slipped through the curtain, realizing for the first time Toby wasn’t inside. Then, she noticed his coat, the one Abby and she had made for him out of deer hides, gloves, and hat were gone as well. She opened the front door, shielding her face against the small, sharp bits of grit kicked up by the strong wind. It was then she recalled hearing the cabin door open several hours prior. She came to the only possible conclusion. Oh, shit. He must’ve gone to get help.
The tribe lived hours away when the weather was favorable. Even though it hadn’t snowed in days, the air was bitter cold. Deadly cold.
He’s going to freeze to death out there. Jesse heard Abby calling out for her. It took all her strength to push the door closed against the relenting force of the wind. Cup of water forgotten, she hurried to Abby’s bedside.
Abby could tell by Jesse’s face something was amiss. “What’s wrong?”
Jesse deflected the question. Abby had enough to deal with. “Nothing,” she said. “I’m just worried about you. Do you want to try pushing again?”
Abby leaned forward and grabbed her knees. She dug her heels into the mattress as she bore down with her next contraction, pushing with all her might.
“Keep pushing. You’re doing fine,” Jesse said, her consolation lost beneath yet another excruciating spasm.
Abby’s strength gave out. She released her grip and fell exhausted back onto the bed. “It burns. It burns so bad. Do you see the baby?”
Jesse looked. “I don’t see—” She stopped speaking and looked again, wanting to be sure. “I don’t see a head. I don’t see anything.”
Abby gasped and the color drained from her face. “I think the baby is stuck.”
Jesse’s gaze darted up at her. Her eyes went wide, as did her mouth. “What does that mean? Is that bad? What can I do?” she asked, pitch rising.
Abby squirmed in discomfort. “I don’t know what to do,” she said, clutching her stomach.
“You seem to have those shooting pains more often now. She has to be getting close,” Jesse said. “Try pushing again.”
Each time Abby pushed, Jesse searched for signs the baby was emerging from its hiding spot. And each time she saw nothing, another wave of fear rippled through her.
Minutes ticked by with little progress. She pushed when she felt the need, only to exert herself, the pain worse. With each contraction, Abby pushed harder, making her feel as if her body was being torn apart. Guttural sounds ripped her throat as each attempt left her more physically and mentally drained.
Jesse, normally calm, felt fear take hold. What started as a spark in the pit of her stomach grew into a blaze, threatening to engulf her. All of her inadequacy was finally exposed. A snowball out of control, she paced restlessly, hands lost in a tangle of hair, as she stared down the avalanche of complications she knew was heading their way. She stopped pacing and stood facing the wall beside the bed. She remembered the pain of her dislocated finger and recalled biting on the stick. She reached for a snowshoe and lifted it from its peg. Without a thought, she took her knife and cut a piece of rawhide binding.
“Bite on this the next time. It will help,” she said.
After enduring one of the worst contractions so far, Abby fell back, panting, eyes closed. Pain was the only thing she knew. How did women endure this? Survive this?
Some didn’t, Abby knew. Behind closed lids, her mind drifted, took her away, to a different time, a different home. She had promised herself she wouldn’t go back there—wouldn’t think about the day her mother died. Yet, there she was, back in that tiny house, hands pressed over her ears, listening as her mother fought to bring her sister into the world. A tear rolled down her cheek as she reached to take hold of Jesse’s hand, her grip no stronger than a breeze. “Jesse,” she whispered.
“Yes?”
“I want you to do something for me,” she said, voice crackling and weak.
Jesse kissed the back of her hand. “Anything.”
“I might not make it through this. If I don’t, I want you to take the baby. Cut it out of me if you have to. Don’t let it—”
“Dammit! Don’t you do this! Don’t you quit. Come on, let’s try pushing again.”
“I can’t push anymore. I can’t.” Her chin trembled. “I’m so tired.”
“Yes, you can,” Jesse said, pulling her forward by the arms. She put Abby’s hands on her knees, pressing down on them with her own palms to add their strength. “Now push! Push as hard as you can.”
Abby tried, but like all the attempts before, nothing happened save for a momentary increase in the pain and pressure. She crumbled back onto the bed. “Promise me you—”
“I can’t! I won’t make that promise, so don’t ask me to.”
“Come here,” Abby said, voice fading, barely a whisper.
Jesse lay down beside her, thumb caressing Abby’s cheek.
“You must. I’m begging you. Don’t let our child die,” Abby said, trailing her fingers through Jesse’s hair.
“Please, Abs. Don’t ask me to do that. Neither of you are going to die.” Jesse pleaded, trying to swallow the lump growing in her throat. “We’ll get through this. You can’t give up. You can’t.”
Abby held Jesse’s face in her hands. “I’m begging you. If I don’t make it, you have to get our baby out. Please. Promise me. Our baby’s life depends on you.”
Jesse turned away, unable to face her.
Abby placed her hand on Jesse’s cheek, turning her head back, forcing her to meet her gaze. “Do you promise?”
Jesse stayed silent. She felt her resolve crumbling and swallowed the lump that went down like shards of glass. Looking into Abby’s eyes, she relented. “I’ll do what needs to be done. I promise. But right now I need you to be strong. I need you to try again.” She put her hands on Abby’s shoulder and helped her lean up. “Now push. Come on. You can do this.”
Just then, the door opened, letting in a gust of wind that buffeted the heavy curtain. Jesse and Abby were both stunned when Aponi appeared from behind it, rushing to remove her coat as she hurried to the bedside.
Abby had never been more relieved in her life. As much as she loved Jesse, as much as she needed her, she knew Aponi was the one who would have the knowledge and experience to help right now.
“It’s stuck. She’s been pushing and pushing, but nothing,” Jesse said. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Let me see.” Aponi pulled back the blanket. “Um hum,” she muttered as she placed her hands on Abby’s abdomen and felt around. She knew what had to be done. “Abby, I need you to get out of this bed. Jesse, go get a chair.” She aided a frail Abby to her feet. “Baby hard to come when you lay on your back. Must squat,” she said, bending her knees enough to comfortably mimic the position. Then she instructed Jesse to sit in the chair at the foot of the bed.
“What can I do?” Jesse asked, straddling the chair.
“You just sit there and keep it from falling over. Abby, you hold on,” Aponi said, placing Abby’s hands on the back of the chair for support. She put a blanket on the floor underneath Abby. “Now, squat down and push,” she said, her tone demanding.
On legs so weak and shaky
Abby feared she would collapse, she held tight to the chair and squatted. Her body shook, her body hurt. Determined, she bore down until she felt something shift inside her.
“Again,” Aponi said, reaching up. “It’s coming. Push again.”
Jesse kept her hands over Abby’s as she continued to push. “Come on. You can do this,” she said.
Abby’s strength waned. She wanted to collapse, let her aching body fall across the bed. But Jesse and Aponi were insistent and wouldn’t allow her to give up.
After several more attempts, Jesse leaned down for a look. At last, something was different. Jesse saw a head. “Abs, you’re doing it. She’s almost out,” she said, excitement radiating through her voice. “Push!”
The words had barely left Jesse’s mouth when the baby shot out so quickly she couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl. All she could make out was that it was fleshy and wet. Aponi had it in her arms, cleaning away the mucous with a rag. Jesse strained for a better look. She was sure it was a girl.
Abby’s strength finally gave out. Her limbs turned to water and she sagged. She draped her arms around Jesse, resting her head on a shoulder like dead weight. Jesse kissed the top of her head.
The sudden silence rang in their ears.
“Is it all right?” Abby asked, lifting her head, trying to see for herself. “I don’t hear—”
A shrill cry split through the still.
“He’s fine,” Aponi said, smile spreading across her face.
Relieved, Abby looked at Jesse. “He,” she said, grinning. “We have a son—” Pain silenced her. She grabbed her stomach. “Something’s not right.”
Aponi put the baby on the bed and reached up between Abby’s legs. “I feel it.”
“Feel what?” Abby asked.
Aponi leaned around her and looked up. “A head! Now push!”
A head. Jesse repeated the words. It took her several seconds to comprehend what that meant. Then, she felt a tingle shoot through her body. Blackness filled her vision. She crashed to the floor, striking her head on Frieda’s old trunk at the end of the bed.
“Jesse. Jesse. Jesse.” The muffled words slowly crept in her ears, like penetrating through a pillow. “Jesse! Jesse wake up.”
The words loud and clear now, Jesse blinked and blinked again, studying the apparition standing over her. Slowly, Aponi came into focus. She winced from the pain and put up a hand, felt the cool touch of a rag on her forehead.
“You’re bleeding,” Aponi said. “Keep pressing.”
Jesse cleared her throat. “The baby? Is it all right?”
“You mean babies,” Aponi said with a wide grin. “Yes, they and Mother are fine. Come. See.” She helped Jesse to her feet.
Jesse saw Abby covered with a blanket in bed. Two tiny heads poked out, one cradled in each of her arms.
“We were both right. Look, we have a son and a daughter,” she said, voice raspy, blue eyes sparkling with pride.
Jesse unconsciously lowered the rag and sat down beside her.
Abby took Jesse’s hand and guided the wet cloth back to her forehead. “Keep pressure on it. You’re still bleeding.”
Still in shock, Jesse sat in silence.
“Well, say something,” Abby said.
Jesse opened her mouth to speak, but it was as if the part of her brain that processed speech had shut down. The apparent danger behind them, she finally felt the effects of these frantic, sleepless hours. She stammered. “You had tw-twins?”
“Uh, huh.” Abby nodded.
With one hand holding the rag over her wound, Jesse warily used the other to pull back the blanket enough for a better look. Curled up on Abby’s naked body were the tiniest, most beautiful beings she had ever seen. She ran her cupped hand lightly over the top of the baby’s head nearest to her. “It’s so soft. It feels like peach fuzz.” She stuck out a finger and the baby boy grabbed hold. “They look like you,” Jesse said, eyes meeting Abby’s.
Glancing down at one of the babies, Abby said, “Jesse, this is Jim.”
“Jim?” She lightly placed her thumb over the tiny fingers wrapped around her own.
“Yes, after your father.” She tilted her head towards the baby girl. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to call her Gwen, after my grandmother, Gwyneth.”
Jesse was overcome with emotion, tears pooling in her eyes. “I love those names.”
Baby Gwen puckered her face and cried. Jesse’s own tears finally spilled over and fell, slipping quietly down her face.
“Would you hold him while I see if I can get her to nurse?” Abby asked.
Jesse didn’t move, unsure of what to do. Aponi picked up the baby and carefully placed him in Jesse’s bent arm. She rocked him as she kept the pressure on her bleeding wound. She focused on the eyes staring back at her. “He’s perfect,” she whispered, looking over at Abby.
Jesse had never seen a mother nurse a baby before. Gwen latching on was one of the sweetest things she had ever witnessed. Hands full, she had no way to wipe away the tears streaming down her face. She swiped her wet cheeks against her shoulders, smearing the salty flow more than drying it. “Has Toby seen them?” she asked.
Aponi shook her head. “He’s not here.”
Jesse looked up. “He didn’t come back with you?”
“No. He’s with the tribe. Running Cloud is taking care of him.”
“Taking care of him. What happened?” Jesse asked, worry shaking her voice.
Aponi placed a consoling hand on her shoulder. “He’s got the blackness in his feet.”
Jesse’s heart sank. She knew exactly what Aponi was talking about—frostbite.
Chapter Eleven
Jesse woke to soft grunting and squeaking emanating from the cradle next to the bed. Abby was finally resting peacefully, and she didn’t want to wake her. She rolled quietly out of bed and tiptoed to the cradle. Jim was fast asleep, yet his lips pursed as if searching for his mother.
“Good morning, Gwen,” she said, feeling the smile stretch across her face. The infant’s icy-blue eyes stared at her intently as she reached for the tiny bundle. “What do you say we let them sleep?” she whispered, picking her up. “I’ve seen squirrels bigger than you.”
Jesse sat in the rocker beside the fireplace, Gwen cradled in her arms. “You’re so beautiful,” she said, “ just like your mother.” She caressed Gwen’s cheek as they rocked, and then pulled her hand back. She feared her calloused skin would somehow hurt the baby. She felt as soft and fragile a thing as Jesse had ever handled.
She remembered what Joe Mulligan had told her at the wedding—about babies not being breakable. She wasn’t sure about that. She’d err on the side of caution. Either way, Gwen seemed to enjoy the interaction.
Jesse held the baby in her lap, supporting Gwen’s little head in her palm. A tiny arm poked out of the blanket Abby had knitted, and the smallest hand she had ever seen clutched hold of her finger. Gwen’s grip had more strength behind it than she anticipated. She again noticed the intense blue eyes.
“You’re going to be a handful just like your mother, aren’t you?” she whispered, nuzzling Gwen and taking in her baby scent.
Jesse couldn’t help but think of Toby as she rocked Gwen softly. “I can’t wait for you to meet your uncle. He saved your life. Actually, he saved mine too,” she said softly. “If something would’ve happened to your mother…well, I couldn’t imagine a life without her. See, I’m quite fond of her.”
“I’m quite fond of you too,” Abby said, startling her. She put a hand on Jesse’s shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “I should see if she’s hungry.”
Jesse carefully transferred the baby to Abby’s open arms as if worried she’d shatter. “I’ll put on the coffee.”
Aponi climbed down from the loft just as Jesse was adding another log to the fire. She took a seat in one of the rocking chairs.
“Be honest with me,” Jesse said, prying the wood into place with the poker. “How bad is he?”
Jesse stood. “Do you think they can save his feet?”
“Running Cloud is good with medicine. But can’t bring things back to life. Dead is dead.”
Jesse’s heart sank. She knew blackness meant dead flesh. Frostbite was one of the most dangerous predators on the mountain. Its invisible claws loomed a greater, more imminent threat than any bear or wildcat.
Jesse jabbed with the poker. “I need to see him,” she said. Her words came out tinged with fire like the sparks she sent spiraling.
“I’m worried for him, too. Toby means much to me.”
Jesse, concerned about her brother’s well being, missed the subtle hint from Aponi. “You know, there was a time when I thought I had lost him forever. I can’t lose him again.”
Aponi stood and put a warm hand on her shoulder. “I know your past. Now that Abby’s out of danger, I will return to tribe and check on him.”
Jesse shook her head and grabbed Aponi’s hand. “No. Will you stay here with her instead? You’re more of a help to her than I am. I don’t know anything about babies, and if something should happen…” Jesse paused, eyes glistening as a series of possibilities flashed through her head, each one too terrible to consider. She pushed them away. “Well,” she said, gulping back her fear, “I’d feel a whole lot better if you were here.”
Aponi smiled and nodded. “I will stay.”
Jesse patted Aponi’s hand, still resting on her shoulder. “Thank you.”
Aponi’s willingness to help did little to put her mind at ease, knowing the situation had become dire for her brother. She left the immediate heat of the fire and took a seat on the edge of the bed, listening as Abby sang to a nursing Gwen.