“I don’t want to leave you.”
“Go!” One brisk swat of her ma’s hand in the air set her in motion.
Jack jumped up and ran into the kitchen, peeking through the door into the dining room. No one was at the table, although the dirty dishes remained. She prayed that Martha Phillips would hurry. Jack grabbed a bowl and ladled boiling water out of the pot on the stove. She found a clean knife and hurried back to the bedroom. What in the world was the knife for?
“It’s coming.” Her ma had slid off the bed and was squatting beside it, grunting. “Ohh…. Knife in water.”
Jack obeyed. “What else?”
Her mother glanced down.
Jack’s eyes went wide.
“Catch Oscar.”
Chapter 21
Noah looked around Alan’s room. What would it have been like to have had such a nice room all to himself and a bed, instead of sleeping on the dirty floor?
He cradled Emma’s head against his shoulder, reluctant to put her on the bed. Sweat curled the waif’s wispy hair, and her soft breaths touched his cheek like a feather. The bed sat against one wall, but with all the noise Alan and Abby were making, he was sure Emma would awaken if he stopped rocking her.
He needed to put Emma in her own bed, but everything within him shouted that it was wrong for him to enter the girls’ bedroom. Ambling through the upstairs hall, he walked to the stair railing and glanced down. Why hadn’t the doctor’s wife arrived? Or Miss Payton returned? What could be keeping them?
He stared at the girls’ closed door—Jackie’s door. He snorted a soft laugh. When had he started calling her that? It fit her better now than Jack did. There was something softer about it, like she was soft.
Abby squealed, and Emma jerked in his arms. The poor toddler would never sleep unless he put her someplace quiet. He looked at the door again, remembering Jackie sitting in her bed. He couldn’t have told a soul what color the room was, because he’d only been able to focus on her that day. “Forgive me, Father.”
He twisted the knob and pushed on the door. A garden of beauty opened up before him. The walls had been painted a soft green, and colorful curtains covered in a multitude of flowers flapped in the afternoon breeze. His gaze landed on Jackie’s bed, which sat under the front window, covered in a vivid quilt. He yanked his gaze away, feeling guilty for even looking at it.
A smaller bed sat on the wall opposite the big one, and to his right was another small bed with rails along the side. He laid Emma down on that bed. Should he cover her up? The room was warm, even with two windows open. He glanced down at Emma’s chubby legs sticking out from under her dress, and he bent and touched the back of her calf. She felt plenty warm to him.
He backed away, watching to make sure she didn’t awaken, and then closed the door. His heart pummeled his chest, whether from being in Jackie’s room or just succeeding in getting the little girl to sleep, he wasn’t sure.
Now what? He peered downstairs again but couldn’t tell if anyone had come in. He moseyed back to the other children, unable to keep his mind from wondering how things were going downstairs. He had no doubt that Jackie could handle just about any situation, but would she know how to deliver a baby if need be?
Help them, Lord. Protect mother and child. Help Jackie to not be afraid.
He leaned against the doorframe and watched Alan and Abby playing checkers. The girl glanced over at him and smiled. While her face was turned, her brother snatched one of her kings off the board. Alan glanced over at him, his guilt obvious. Noah lifted his brow, and the boy scowled and looked away.
“Hey! Where’d my other king go?” Abby glanced around the floor, and when she was turned away from the table, Alan set the checkers back on the board. He frowned.
Abby turned back to the table, and her mouth dropped open. She rubbed her eyes and stared again. “I must be gettin’ old, like Papa.”
“Yep.” Alan nodded his head, a sheepish grin pulling at his mouth.
Noah tucked under his upper lip in his effort not to laugh at the precocious child. The only children he’d spent any time around were those of his congregation whom he’d eaten meals with during his circuit-riding days.
The simple room called to him. Besides Alan’s bed, there was a small table with a chair and a crate the boy used for a second seat. A half-dozen pegs lined the wall about three-and-a-half feet up from the floor and held the boy’s clothing. Some mismatched pieces of wood filled another crate, and a blue and gray rag rug covered the center of the floor.
He wanted a home of his own. He was tired of traveling—of never putting down roots. All his life, until he’d moved in with Pete, he’d traveled from one shack to another.
Before he came to Lookout, he’d never thought much of marrying and starting a family. But how could he when he didn’t own a home or land? He wasn’t even sure how long he’d be in Lookout or what he’d do once Pastor Taylor and his family returned.
But the biggest issue was Jack—Jackie. He’d held a fondness for her even as a troubled youth. It made no sense to him when she caused him no end of problems. She’d lied about him, even causing him to spend two days in jail for something he hadn’t done. ‘Course, he’d settled up with her on that account the day he locked her in her pa’s jail.
He shook his head. Walking away with her begging and pleading to set her free had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he felt she needed to learn a lesson. Whether she did or not, he never knew. They’d moved once again shortly after that.
Noah stretched. He could use a Sabbath rest himself. He hadn’t slept much at all last night, worrying over his sermon and Jackie. He yawned and toyed with the idea of scrunching up on Alan’s bed.
“I won!” Abby held up two black checkers.
“Nuh-uh, you cheated.” Alan leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms so hard he made a clapping sound.
“Why don’t you play another game. I bet you’ll win this time.” Noah hoped they would agree. He had no idea how to entertain two such strong-willed children. He eyed the bed again, then crossed the room and eased down. The metal frame creaked and groaned under his weight. Slowly testing its strength, he relaxed and leaned back against the wall. Maybe he could grab a little catnap when the children played another game. He yawned and closed his eyes.
He claimed Jackie’s hand, and together they strolled along the Addams River. Adolescents splashed in the pool where water collected in the spot where the river made a sharp turn and traveled on. A gangly youth swung out on a rope and dropped down into the pool, screaming a yell that would make a Comanche proud.
He led Jackie down a path to a quieter spot. Overhead, birds battled in song. Sunlight played peek-a-boo, first hiding behind a tree branch and then sprinkling its rays across the water. He turned Jackie to him and ran the back of his finger down her cheek. His breath hitched. She was so lovely. His hand trailed down the unbound auburn tresses. She smiled, love for him glowing in her blue eyes.
Contentment made every muscle, every bone in his body relax. He dug his hand into the hair behind her nape, then cupped her neck and drew her to him. Suddenly, her expression turned to horror, and she screamed his name.
Noah jerked up. Where was he? He saw the empty table and lurched to his feet. Where were the children?
He spun around, and his heart loosened. Abby lay on the end of the bed, curled up on Alan’s pillow, fast asleep. But where was the boy?
“Noah!”
He jerked toward the door at Jack’s frantic cry. His feet pushed forward, and he charged down the stairs. His gaze searched each room as he raced by, but there was no sign of Alan. Had something happened to him?
He skidded to a halt outside Mr. and Mrs. Davis’s bedroom, his heart racing. “Jackie?”
“In here. Hurry!”
At Jack’s hysterical cry, Noah rushed through the bedroom doorway, pushing aside his reservations. She held a lifeless newborn in her arms. Tears ran down her cheeks. Her p
laintive gaze begged for his help. “He’s not breathing! I don’t know what to do!”
“Give him to me.” He didn’t know what to do, either, but he had to do something. Jack gazed into his eyes, obviously reluctant to let go of her brother. “Jackie, let me have him. Hurry!”
She carefully passed the damp baby, and Noah swallowed hard when he saw the boy’s blue lips. Making sure to keep his eyes averted from where Mrs. Davis sat on the floor, he cradled the child’s face in his palm with the limp body resting on his arm. Show me what to do, Lord.
He held the baby so that his head was down and gently patted the soft skin on his back. Nothing happened. Visions of the young boy who’d fallen into the creek flashed in his mind. Jackie would never forgive him if he didn’t help her brother. “Noah!” Jack’s near hysterical plea touched a place deep within him. He could not fail her. He couldn’t fail this child. He whacked the baby harder.
“Don’t! You’ll hurt him.” Jack pulled at his sleeve.
Rachel fell back onto the bed, her eyes wide, face pale. “Lord, save my son.”
Noah turned his body away and gave the child a downward shake, then whacked him a bit harder. The baby jumped, arms outstretched. He gagged, then uttered a strangled cry. Easing up, Noah continued to tap and hold the baby’s head down. Jack grabbed a cloth and swiped the boy’s mouth. After several more fervent coughs, a pitiful squeal that resembled a lamb’s bleating filled the room and sent spears of relief straight through Noah.
Jack dropped down on the side of the bed and peered at the infant’s face, tears making her eyes glimmer. “Oh, thank God!”
Noah shifted the child to his other arm, relishing the sounds of ever-strengthening wails. Dark, damp hair was matted to the baby’s head. A thick cord protruded from where his navel should be, and someone had tied twine around it. Noah had never seen a brand-new baby before and sure hoped that was normal. The boy’s cries magnified, and his face pinked up, then turned red. “I think he wants his mama.”
He passed Jack her newest brother. His heart warmed, watching her kiss the newborn’s forehead and pass him to Rachel. Noah turned and hurried out of the room, knowing he was no longer needed. He made it as far as the kitchen before he sagged against the doorframe. His whole body shook, and tears rolled down his face. “Thank You, Lord, for saving that baby.”
A light touch on his back made him straighten. Jack stood there, her blue eyes glistening and tears of joy making rivers down her cheeks. “I was so scared. I th–thought he was … dead.”
Suddenly she lunged into Noah’s arms and hugged his waist. Surprise washed through him, but he shut his eyes and wrapped his arms around her. Jack’s warm tears dampened his shirt. Fresh love for this woman flooded his heart. No, in truth, he’d loved her for years, even though she hadn’t given a hoot about him. He was afraid to hope that God might change her heart—that she might ever come to care for him.
He couldn’t fool himself. Gratitude was her motivation for this hug—and relief.
No matter, for this one moment, this single second, he savored having Jacqueline Davis in his arms.
Jack couldn’t quit shaking. Her tears refused to stop. What if her ma hadn’t made it through the birthing? What if she’d cut the cord wrong and the baby had died?
She’d feared he had.
And if not for Noah, he probably would have, but thank the Lord, the baby seemed fine now.
She never wanted to be in such a situation again.
Jack pressed her face against Noah’s solid chest and hugged him tighter. Thank You, God, for sending Noah to help. For saving the baby.
Suddenly she stiffened. She was hugging Noah. The preacher. Her roiling emotions had caused her to momentarily take leave of her senses.
“H’looo, Jacqueline?” came a woman’s voice from the front of the house.
“In here.” Jack jumped back and swiped her cheeks. She couldn’t look at Noah. His arms dangled at his side, and she deeply felt the loss of their comfort.
Mrs. Phillips scurried into the kitchen. “I’m so sorry to have taken so long, but I’d just started”—she glanced past Jack, at Noah, then leaned forward—”nursing my baby,” she whispered. “I couldn’t very well stop, not knowing how long I’d be away. Besides, I figured I had time since babies aren’t generally in a rush to get here.”
Noah chuckled.
The doctor’s wife glanced back and forth between the two of them. “Is everything all right here?”
Jack nodded, feeling for sure that her mother’s friend thought they’d been up to no good. “We’re fine, but Ma could use your help. She’s in her room.”
“Of course, I’ll just scurry on in there.” She started to leave, then looked at Noah again. “Are you doing all right, Reverend? Your face isn’t hurting overly much?”
“I’m fine, but thank you for asking, Mrs. Phillips. Your husband tended me last night and did an excellent job.” Noah smiled but it looked more like a grimace, since one side of his mouth didn’t lift as much as the other because of the cut on his upper lip.
Mrs. Phillips nodded. “I’m glad you’re doing well.” She spun out the kitchen doorway then suddenly halted and peered back over her shoulder. “Someone really ought to see to Alan before he makes himself sick.”
The woman disappeared, and Jack wondered what she meant. Where was Alan? Where were all the children for that matter?
“You really should have told her,” Noah’s deep voice quivered.
Jack worked up the nerve to look him in the face. “About what?”
“Heavens to Betsy! The baby’s here?” Mrs. Phillip’s loud exclamation bounced off the walls and clattered down the hall.
“About that.” Noah’s lips were pressed together so hard they’d turned white around the edges, but his eyes danced with mirth. At least the one that wasn’t swollen shut did.
“Oh. Surprise! Surprise!” A grin tugged at Jack’s mouth. “I’d better check on Alan. Do you know where he is?”
The smile on Noah’s face faded, and he shook his head.
Jack crossed into the dining room and glanced around the empty table. All seats were vacant, but the dirty dishes remained and food still sat on the buffet. A loud belch pulled her gaze downward. She bent over and lifted the edge of the tablecloth. Her brother sat on the floor with a near empty pie tin on his lap, sugary juice and crumbs covering his mouth and chin. “Alan Davis, what do you think you’re doing?”
She could hear Noah’s chuckles behind her, and she scorched him with a glare. Obviously, he didn’t realize that Alan would see that as support and it would just encourage the imp all the more. Her brother’s blue eyes stared up at her from under the table. She saw the worry written there, but then they turned pleading.
“Come out from under there, and take care not to spill any more crumbs on the floor.”
He slid the pie pan along the floor and crawled behind two chairs. He handed her the pan then glanced at Noah, as if looking for help.
Jack set what remained of the pie on the table and shoved her hands to her hip. “Well?”
“I was hungry, Sissy.”
His whining tone was wasted on her. “Then why didn’t you finish the food on your plate?”
His lip curled up, and his nose wrinkled. “You know I don’t like them kind of beans.”
“So you thought you’d eat a whole pie while everyone else was busy?”
His gaze dropped to the floor. “I didn’t eat the whole thing.” He pointed at Noah. “The preacher and Miss Carly both had a slice, and Abby had a huge one.” He stuck his lower lip out.
“And you didn’t?”
Alan shrugged.
Noah leaned close to her ear, and her stomach flip-flopped. “Miss Payton said he couldn’t have any since he hadn’t finished his beans,” he whispered, tickling her ear and making it hard for her to think straight. She gave her head a little shake, hoping to recapture her thoughts. “But this is probably my fault. I—”
Jack cut a sharp glance at Noah. “No, it’s not, and don’t take up for him.” She looked Alan in the eye again. “Since you disobeyed Miss Carly, young man, and ate pie when you knew you shouldn’t have, you can just march up to your room until I talk to Ma. It would serve you right if she doesn’t let you have any dessert all week.”
His eyes widened. “But that ain’t fair.”
“Not fair.” Jack snatched a napkin off the table and wiped the mess off of Alan’s face.
“That’s what I said.”
Noah uttered a little snort, and she elbowed him in the gut. “What I meant was that you shouldn’t say ain’t.”
“Oh.”
“Now, get on up to your room.” She gave him a nudge on the shoulder.
“Aw … “ Alan hung his head and trudged toward the door.
He was trying to make her feel bad, but it wouldn’t work. Just as he reached the doorway, the baby let out a high-pitched shriek. Andy spun back toward her, eyes wide. “What was that?”
Jack contemplated not telling him, but she was too excited. “That was your little brother.”
Alan’s mouth dropped open. “The baby came?”
Jack nodded, pleased that she’d surprised him.
He gasped. “I have a brother!” He jumped up and punched his fist in the air, then turned and raced out of the room and up the stairs. “Wahooo!”
Jack grinned, and behind her, Noah chuckled. She spun around, and he seemed to struggle to contain his mirth.
“Should I not laugh at that?” He pressed his lips together, they quivered, and then he grinned.
“No, that was actually funny.” Jack smiled, then forced a stern expression. “But never laugh at a child being scolded. Don’t you know anything about children?”
His eyes dimmed, and he shook his head. “No, not really.”
A jab of compassion pricked her heart, but then she remembered her sisters. “Hey, speaking of children, where are the girls? I just realized I haven’t seen them for a long while, and that’s not a good thing, especially where Abby is concerned.”
Finally a Bride (Texas Boardinghouse Brides 3) Page 21