by Ana Leigh
Garrett slipped his arms around her neck. “I’m sorry I took so long to be born.”
Caroline smiled into his troubled face. “That’s why you’re so precious to me, sweetheart. The harder it is to get what you want, the more you cherish it when you finally get it.”
“I love you, Mama.”
“I love you, too,” she said. “Pleasant dreams.”
“Mama,” he called out when she turned down the lamp. “Do you think it would be okay if Buffer slept on the bed?”
“Sure. I’ll go and find him.”
She didn’t have to go far. As soon as she opened the door, the dog padded past her, jumped up on the foot of the bed, and stretched out at Garrett’s feet.
The men had been busy in her absence. The carpet had been replaced and the furniture returned to its proper setting in the parlor. She glanced out the open door and saw that someone had built a campfire, and all the men were standing or sitting around it in small groups, talking—relaxed but considerably less festive. The wedding celebration had turned into a baby vigil. With the exception of Jed and Rico, the rest of the men had been through it before—most more than once—so this was nothing new to them.
Lissy, Cassie, and Etta were sitting around the kitchen table drinking coffee.
Caroline joined them. “How is Rory doing?”
Cassie shook her head. “Not good; she’s in a lot of pain. Colt and I were here when she had Danny; she labored for forty-eight hours.”
Lissy nodded. “The doctor said some women just aren’t built for having a baby. She’s so tiny; my heart aches for her.”
“I hope Stephen gets back soon with the doctor, who can give her something to ease her suffering,” Etta said.
“How long do you think it will be?” Caroline asked.
“It takes about an hour to get there and back.”
Becky came out of the bedroom and sat down with them. “I can’t take much more. She’s in so much pain. We don’t know what we can do for her, and she’s so pale. I think she’s losing the battle.”
Becky jumped to her feet. “When is that doctor going to get here!”
Cassie poured her a cup of coffee. “You can probably use this.”
“I’ll go in with my mother,” Etta said, and got up from the table. “Sit down and relax, Becky. You’ve been working hard for the last couple of days.”
“How is Garth holding up?” Lissy asked.
Becky sat down at the table again. “He won’t budge from her side. Every time she has a contraction, it’s like someone drives a knife into him.”
“Do you think one of my brothers could convince him to come out and have a cup of coffee or something stronger?” Lissy asked.
“When pigs fly,” Becky said. “Rory’s also bleeding.”
“Staining or bleeding?” Caroline asked worriedly.
“It’s beyond a stain. I don’t remember any bleeding until my baby actually was delivered. Did any of you experience it before then?”
A long silence followed. Saying no would confirm the fear that they were trying so hard to repress. The knowledge that not all women survived was very real to every one of them.
Cassie went out to find Colt, needing the comfort of his arms around her.
“Becky, did you just call me?” Clay asked, suddenly appearing in the doorway. She shook her head. “Funny, I would have sworn it was you.”
Unable to restrain her tears, Becky ran to him, and they withdrew to find a spot to be alone.
Lissy bolted to her feet. “I better check on the children,” she said, trying to hold back her tears.
Alone with her grief, Caroline buried her head in her hands and swallowed her tears, the way she had always done in the past. She’d always sought some corner to escape to and hide from reality, in the hope her sorrow would go away.
She looked up, and Jed was standing in the kitchen doorway watching her. One look at him and her tears burst forth unrestrained. Caroline stood up and rushed into the comfort of his arms.
Word spread quickly among the people assembled. The grandfathers had already dozed off, and mercifully Paddy O’Grady had prematurely celebrated the birth of his grandchild by passing out. He lay on a blanket under a tree, snoring away peacefully, unaware that his daughter was fighting for her life.
By the time Stephen returned with the doctor, everyone was on pins and needles. The men were grouped in somber silence in the bedroom, along with the women, who had moved in to be near Rory.
“What are you men doing in here?” the doctor demanded. “You think it’s a damn convention?”
“We came in to give Garth and Rory some moral support,” Clay said.
The doctor raised his eyes heavenward. “God help me! Out of here, men and women alike,” he ordered. “Mrs. Garson, will you please remain.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Garth said.
His brothers squeezed his shoulder or tapped him on the back as they filed out.
“Hang in there, little sister,” Clay said to Rory. “We know you can do it.” Then he gave Garth a tap on the back and moved on.
“It would be easier if you left the room, too, Garth. At least while I examine your wife,” the doctor said.
“Please let him stay, Doctor,” Rory said weakly.
“It’s not advisable, Mrs. Fraser, but very well. If that’s what you wish.”
“You know, we haven’t eaten since morning,” Becky said. “I bet the men are starved, and we’ve got a baked ham and the rest of that food that we prepared for the wedding dinner.”
“Well, let’s put it out and get some more coffee brewing. I doubt anyone is hungry, but it gives us something to do, instead of sitting on our hands,” Cassie said.
The men had all moved outside for some fresh air when Dr. Meechem joined the women in the kitchen.
“I’m going to be honest with you, ladies. The prognosis isn’t good—she’s only three-quarters dilated and losing blood.”
“Why is she losing so much blood, Doctor?” Becky asked.
“The opening of her uterus is very small, and the uterus can only expand so far before it will rip. That’s what’s happening right now. The uterus rips every time the fetus tries to squeeze out, causing her to hemorrhage. If the infant isn’t delivered soon, she will likely bleed to death.”
“Dear God, no!” Caroline gasped.
Lissy and Etta began to sob softly.
“Dr. Meechem, isn’t there something you can do?” a tearful Cassie asked. “Anything to prevent it? We can’t just sit by and watch it happen!”
“I anticipated this might happen after I delivered her first child, so I’ve given her a drug to ease her pain and a medication to try and slow the hemorrhaging. But it can’t stop the bleeding entirely. She’s a courageous young woman with a strong will to survive. But the strength is flowing out of her. The longer she’s in labor, the less chance she has.”
Garth rinsed off the perspiration on Rory’s brow with a cool cloth. “Did the medicine help, honey?” he asked.
“Yes, it doesn’t hurt as much now,” she said.
“You never were a very good liar, honey. Let it out. Scream, curse, rip the sheets. Do anything that will help. I’ve always heard that women scream when they’re having babies.”
She tried to smile gamely at him. “Fraser women are like the men we married. We spit pain in the eye.” A tear slid down her cheek, and he reached out and gently captured it with a finger. “I guess I’m not a very good Fraser woman. I just don’t have it in me anymore.”
“Honey, remember those bleak hours in the cave, when we knew those outlaws would kill us? I asked you why you came back, when you could have escaped to safety.”
“And I told you I wouldn’t want to live without you,” she said weakly.
“That’s how I feel now, baby. I don’t want to go on without you. You’ve got to keep fighting. You can’t give up.”
“I just can’t fight anymore, Garth. I tried, but I can’t
anymore.”
“Yes, you can, baby. You’re a fighter. You can’t quit now. Think about Danny—he needs you as much as I do. Baby, you can do it, I know you can! You’re tiny, but you’re strong, love. You’ve got the grit to tough this out.”
“It’s been good between us, hasn’t it?” she said, so low he could barely hear her. “I wouldn’t trade a minute of it for a lifetime without you.”
“You told me that then, too.”
“You remember,” she murmured.
He kissed her hand. “Every word you said that night.”
“And I still mean every word of it.”
“We both expected to die then, baby. It’s different now. There are others besides me who need you. Do it for them, honey. For Danny. For our little girl. We all need your strength, now more than ever. You have to live, honey. You have to live for us and for our children.”
“You’re still certain our baby will be a girl.”
“You bet, love. With blond hair and big, beautiful blue eyes just like her mother’s.”
“Garth!” she suddenly gasped, clutching his hand. “I love you.” Then she closed her eyes.
“Doctor!” Garth cried in panic.
Helena rushed to the door. “Doctor, come quickly.”
The doctor hurried to the bedside and listened to Rory’s heartbeat, then took her pulse. “Garth, you must leave now.”
Garth clasped Rory’s hand between his own. “I’m not leaving her, Doctor.”
“Mrs. Garson, I’ll need your help,” Dr. Meechem said. “Have any of the other women assisted in delivering a child?”
“Colt’s wife is a rancher. She’s had experience delivering foals and calves.”
“That will have to do. Go tell her to sterilize her hands, and tell her to hurry. Every minute counts.”
CHAPTER
19
As the evening wore on, one or the other of them would doze off for ten or fifteen minutes. Howard Garson and Tom Davis eventually retired to their tents. As close as the families were, the two men felt like intruders, witnessing the Frasers’ grief.
Little was heard from the doctor or Helena and Cassie except for repeated requests for hot water, or an occasional “she’s still alive,” from one of them rushing between the kitchen and the bedroom.
The men remained outside, where they smoked and talked in low voices. Occasionally one or two would come in for a ham sandwich and a bite of salad; the coffeepot on the campfire was refilled as often as the one in the kitchen.
People spoke little during the vigil but their presence spoke volumes.
Mothers hugged their infants closer to their breasts when they nursed them. Husbands reached out just to touch their wives or kiss their foreheads in passing.
They were a united family, struggling with the possible loss of one of their own. Every one among them had borne the loss of loved ones and knew the depth of despair and mourning. Faced once again with that dread, each of them handled it differently.
Some sought an answer to why one so young and vibrant might die. Others were engulfed in anguish by the thought of the suffering Rory had to bear before her final sleep. Many grieved for the infant who might never draw its first breath.
And all grieved for Garth, who would have to go on with only memories of the woman he cherished.
They all also grieved for their own loss—the dear friend, the loving sister-in-law who, if not laughing, always smiled. If not singing, always hummed. Nurturing all of them, as she did her own husband and child.
Dawn streaked the sky with rays of pink and gray by the time Nathan Collins and Jethro Braden walked wearily up the path to Paddy O’Grady’s house. Paddy remained sleeping, and those passing wondered how they would explain to him what was happening.
Caroline woke with a start and looked at the clock. She had dozed off a half hour ago. She saw that Becky and Etta had done the same on the sofa and Rico on a nearby stuffed chair. She went out to the kitchen and put another kettle on the stove to boil.
Returning to the parlor, she sat on the piano stool and lightly struck a key or two with her finger, then began to play softly.
Rico opened his eyes and came over to her. “That is a beautiful melody you’re playing, Caroline.”
“Oh, Rico, I’m so sorry I woke you.”
“Please don’t stop. I’ve heard that song before, but I don’t know its name.”
“It’s one of my favorites.” She resumed playing. “It’s called ‘Liebestraum’ or ‘Dreams of Love.’ It’s written by a Hungarian composer named Franz Liszt.”
“You play well, Caroline.”
She smiled quietly. “I’ve always found it a good diversion when I’m lonely or feeling depressed. The haunting melody soothes me.”
“How long have you played the piano?”
“Since I was twelve. We lived in Virginia then.”
“Where the Frasers come from? Were you and Jed childhood sweethearts?”
“You’re a romantic, Rico, but I’m afraid it was just the opposite. We lived in the same town, but I doubt most of the Frasers even knew my name. I only knew Andy well, the youngest brother.”
“He was killed in the war. Is that right?”
“Yes. He’s Garrett’s father.”
Funny, how easily she had said it—the deep secret she had harbored for almost nine years.
“I had no idea. Jed and Garrett resemble each other so much, I just assumed Jed was…”
Caroline smiled. “Everyone thinks the same when they see them together. I actually didn’t meet Jed until a short time ago.”
She started to play another soothing piece, and Rico listened in silence. When she finished, he said, “That was as lovely as the first one. I’ve never heard it before.”
“It’s only a few years old. ‘Ich Liebe Dich.’ ‘I Love Thee.’ The composer, Edvard Grieg, was only twenty-two when he wrote it. The lyricist is Hans Christian Andersen.”
“The same man who writes those children’s fairy tales?”
She nodded. “He was sixty years old when he wrote the lyrics to this song.”
“I learned much of my English when my mother read his stories to me. Will you play the song again, Caroline?”
She did, and when she finished, he stood up. “Thank you, Caroline. For a few minutes you have brought light into this house.”
On his way out, Rico nodded to Jed, who had been standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
“Your bride is as talented as she is beautiful. Her music is a reflection of her soul. You have chosen wisely and well, Cousin Jed.”
Jed had heard her play for Garrett a time or two, but only popular, lively songs like “Old Gray Mare” or “Little Brown Jug.” He’d never guessed this side of Caroline existed. She was quite accomplished, playing classical selections from memory.
He suddenly was struck with a feeling of guilt. How many other things did he not know about her? She was a very private person. Who did she trust in life, other than her father? Even as a child, she had kept to herself.
He leaned against the doorframe to watch her. She had been a relentless worker throughout the night, making sandwiches, brewing coffee, or putting kettles of water on the stove to boil. And her concern was heartfelt. Until now she had only shown affection for her father and son, protecting her vulnerability by never revealing this emotion to anyone else.
He’d been surprised by how well she had fit in with his family. Because of her strained relationship with him, he had expected she would be standoffish; instead, she had embraced his family and now shared the grief they were suffering.
His gaze rested on her face as she played. For a few stolen moments, she had found a release on the wings of the melody. As he had watched her smile and talk with Rico, he had wished it was him she was smiling at, chatting with so casually. Why couldn’t they share the same casual companionship instead of the constant spatting between them?
The answer was clear, and it had nothing to do with he
r neglecting to inform the family of Garrett’s birth or her resentment of an unwanted marriage. It was the sexual tension between them. No matter how much she tried to resist it, that desire was always there between them. And as long as she continued to deny that need, they could never resolve the problem between them. Any attempt on his part only led to raising her anger, or to her withdrawing even more from him.
We don’t have to love each other—or even like each other…I don’t foresee it to be “unbearable.” Where in hell did she get damn fool ideas like that? And the pity of it was he had agreed!
Even now, with the crisis surrounding them, he wanted her, as he recalled how she felt in his arms, her moans of ecstasy, the taste of her, the scent of her, and the ultimate thrill of that incredible moment of climax.
Caroline suddenly stood up with a startled look. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Jed asked.
“It sounded like a baby crying.”
“I’ve been hearing babies crying from the time we got here.”
“But this came from there,” she said and pointed to the bedroom Rory was in.
“Maybe Cassie’s nursing Sam.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Caroline sat down disconsolately. Then she jumped to her feet again. “Listen—there it is again. It sounds like the cry of a newborn!”
Jolted awake, Becky asked, “What? Newborn baby?”
“I think I heard a baby crying! It was very faint, but I’m sure it was coming from that bedroom.”
Fully awake, Etta asked, “Do we dare knock on the door and ask?”
“I don’t hear any baby crying,” Jed said.
Becky put her ear to the door, then stepped away, shaking her head. “It’s still quiet in there. I haven’t heard a sound out of that room since the doctor entered it last night.”
The women returned to their seats, and Jed went into the bedroom to check on Garrett. To his surprise, the boy was awake and sat up when Jed entered.
“Hey, what are you doing awake?” Jed asked.
“I’ve been thinking hard about something,” Garrett said.
“What’s bothering you, Garrett?” Jed sat down on the edge of the bed.