Barclay

by Charlene Raddon

  What if that happened to Minnie's baby? He doubted he could handle losing another newborn—this one being human made it even more frightening.

  Minnie spent most of her time praying softly and panting through pains. Her face screwed up and her mouth grimaced as she worked to push the baby from her. After a moment, she stopped for a breath and groaned. She looked exhausted. Barclay wondered if she'd have the strength to see this through.

  "Push again, Minnie," he prompted. "It's almost here."

  She said nothing, merely panted, grunted and groaned.

  "It's almost out, Minnie," Barclay said, wondering if this baby would be born today or tomorrow. The clock said five to midnight. He ran to the linen closet, grabbed another towel, and ran back. "One more big push, Minnie."

  He held the towel ready and caught the infant as it slid from its mother's body.

  "A boy. It's a boy." Barclay gingerly wrapped the baby in the towel, wiping away the birth fluids. He knew to clean out the child's mouth from his experience with calves and foals. It began to howl. "Jared, get some twine to tie off the cord."

  "Me?" He looked ready to flee. "You want me to cut the cord? What if I do it wrong?"

  "Jared, you're better than any of us with ranch animals. Why does taking care of a human baby panic you? Get yourself together."

  Jared glared at him. "There's some string in my room. I'll get it."

  "Hurry." Jared studied the small creature in his hands. Birth, he decided, was a miracle. He'd never given it any thought before. Thinking about another human being growing inside the mother's womb boggled his mind. In twenty years, this little guy would be a grown man, like him or Jared or Chase. Hard to fathom. He felt a new feeling of warmth inside him. All due to a baby he probably wouldn't ever see again once his mother left the ranch.

  The infant's nose fascinated him. So small and dainty. He tried to imagine it growing into a knob like Oysters housed on his face but couldn't. Could anyone as homely as Oysters have ever been a sweet, tiny child like this one?

  For that matter, had he himself? He knew it had to be true, but still found it hard to accept. He took the baby to Minnie and held it out for her to take. For an instant, she smiled and craned her neck to see. Then she turned her head aside.

  "Take it away." Minnie covered her eyes with her hands. Eyes wet with tears. "I don't want it."

  "Minnie, he's your son." Barclay stared at her, stunned by her reaction. He carried it closer so she could see how beautiful he was.

  She turned her head away. "I can’t. Don’t ask me to."

  Something of mammoth proportion was wrong here. What in heaven could turn a woman against her own child? He didn't have time to figure it out.

  Minnie grabbed the headboard again on a long groan as the afterbirth ejected itself. Barclay handed the baby to Chase and grabbed up another towel.

  Chase stood staring down at the infant in his arms as if unsure whether to cuddle or toss it. His eyes held a sense of awe Barclay had never seen before.

  "Look at these tiny hands," Chase murmured. "They look like a doll's. And they have teeny fingernails. He's perfect, Minnie. Ten toes and ten fingers. And the cutest little mouth I've ever seen. I don't think he weighs more than five pounds."

  Barclay smiled with relief. The boy had more strength and courage than he'd expected from him. And he was right, the baby was perfect. But he couldn't think on that now. He had a mess to clean up.

  With the baby sleeping in Chase's arms, the men allowed themselves to relax. Barclay began to wonder if they'd ever be able to get the little boy away from his youngest brother. Chase was smitten, no way around it—with the baby and, he suspected, with Minnie. Finally, he stood. "I better take care of these dirty towels."

  A deep groan from the bed halted him. What now?

  Jared jumped to his feet. "Why's she doing that? The baby's out and so is the afterbirth."

  "Maybe it's twins."

  Jared cried, "Oh, good hell."

  Barclay had been joking about twins, but not for long. It soon became apparent Minnie was in labor again. Eighteen minutes later, another boy entered the world. Minnie refused to look at it, let alone hold it. Barclay cleaned its face, then handed him off to Jared to finish up.

  "What are we going to do if she won't nurse these babes?" Jared whispered, wiping the baby with a damp cloth.

  Barclay had no answer. "We'll hope the doc can take charge of them. If he can't, I have no idea."

  He sat on the side of the bed and studied Minnie. She appeared understandably exhausted. "Are you all right?"

  "I'm not sure I'll ever be all right again," she muttered, rubbing the stone Chase had given her. The despair in her eyes tore at his gut. He wanted to help her, but how when she continued to fight him?

  "We need beds for these little ones," he said and glanced around the room.

  Jared went to the dresser and pulled out a drawer. After padding it with a blanket, he placed the two boys inside and covered them with a quilt.

  "Good idea," Barclay said.

  He could see Minnie watching with great interest. When he looked at her, she turned aside. Her gaze settled on Chase, and her expression softened. A bad feeling invaded Barclay's stomach. They knew nothing about this girl except that she had a mighty rough time and didn't want her babies. If what he'd begun to suspect was true, the last thing he wanted was to see Chase become involved with her.

  "Ooooooh," she groaned.

  "What is it?" Barclay asked.

  She raised her knees and grunted through what must be a new contraction. Barclay wasn't sure he wanted to know what was going on. The afterbirth from the second boy had already come out. It couldn't be another baby. He knew triplets existed, of course, but had never known anyone who had any.

  Seconds later, the baby's head emerged. This one was in a hurry to explore the world. Barclay grabbed up a towel and waited for the tiny body to slide free. His hands were relaxed and ready, but nerves wracked the rest of him. He would never forget this day, that was certain. And he hoped he didn't have to endure another like it. When the newborn slid free, he shouted, "It's a girl."

  Minnie buried her face in the pillow and whimpered until Chase stood by her side once more and held out his hand. She squeezed it, endured another spasm and relaxed.

  "You'll need to nurse these babies, Minnie," Barclay said, trying to give her the little girl. "Otherwise, they might die."

  "I can’t." She pushed the infant away. “I don’t want to hold it or look at it.”

  "You can't mean that," Jared said.

  Rather than answering, she burst into tears.

  Downstairs, the front door slammed.

  "Barclay? Doc's here." Slim had returned.

  "What the heck kept you?" Barclay stepped out onto the landing. "Send him up here."

  Slim tipped his hat and water ran off the back of the brim. "I'm going to wake Oysters and talk him into getting out the whiskey."

  "You do that, Slim." Barclay waved him off.

  Dr. Willoughby started up the stairs. He always reminded Barclay of a walrus with his rotund body and drooping mustache. He was a good man, a good doctor and, right now, a mightily muddy and wet one. He dropped his slicker inside the front door. After removing his shoes, he climbed the stairs.

  Barclay fetched him a towel. He'd have to make a laundry run into town, as fast as they were going through their towel supply.

  "What happened to delay you, Doc?" Barclay handed him the towel.

  "Creek's flooded." Doc dried his head and hands. "The buggy got mired in the mud. We left it there so we could get here faster. That's a hell of a storm out there. Trees down and the creek's overflowing its banks."

  "Just what we need," Barclay said. "More work. Come on in. We have a surprise."

  Doc's eyes twinkled. "You do, huh? Slim said you had a woman here. Don't suppose she's expecting, is she?"

  "You guessed it." Barclay hesitated. "Listen, she's in bad shape, been through something pr
etty rough, I think. And she says she doesn't want the babies."

  "Hm," Dr. Willoughby ruffled his mustache with a finger. "That's bad news."

  Doc blinked and his eyes widened. "Did you say babies? Plural?"

  Chapter Three

  "T

  hat's right, Doc. Babies. Plural." Barclay smiled at the stunned expression on the doctor's face. "Three of them. Come and see."

  Doc shook his head. "I can't believe you boys helped deliver triplets. What's this world coming to?"

  When the two men stepped inside, Minnie recoiled at the sight of the new stranger. She pasted herself to the headboard as if trying to escape through the wall.

  "Minnie," Barclay said, "this is Doctor Willoughby. He's going to take care of you and check the babies over to make sure everything is as it should be."

  "He can keep them. Take them away."

  "Now, young lady." Doc set his bag on a chair and stepped beside the bed. "After all you endured bringing them into the world, do you truly want to turn your back on your own flesh and blood?"

  "They aren't mine. They belong to… them."

  "Mind telling me who 'them' is?" Doc shot Barclay an inquisitive glance and got a shrug in exchange.

  The closed expression on Minnie's face said she'd shut down.

  "Well," Doc tried reasoning with her, "how about letting me examine you? Having three babies usually results in some tearing. I can stitch that up. Otherwise, it might fester, become infected, and you could die."

  "Make the rest of them leave," Minnie said, glaring at the brothers until her gaze reached Chase. Then her face cleared. "Will you stay?"

  "Of course. I'm not leaving you, Minnie."

  Barclay, Jared and Doc exchanged amazed glances. Jared went downstairs, but Barclay had no intention of going beyond hearing distance. After all, he had something at stake in this matter and wanted to be there in case Doc convinced Minnie to talk. He positioned himself so he could peek inside.

  Doc went about his job as if it were an everyday occurrence, which it almost was for him. The bed squeaked as Minnie stiffened in preparation for a new invasion of her body. Fear showed in her eyes. Chase resumed humming. Even so, Minnie winced with each stitch Doc took and Chase's hand whitened from the fierce way she gripped it. Her other hand held the worry stone. During it all, her oldest son fussed in the makeshift bed, batting the air with tiny fists. Baby boy two screamed. In her own drawer, the girl slept.

  "Now, that's done." Doc straightened and put his suturing supplies in his bag. "Let me look at these brand-new people you've brought into the world. Well, two boys and a girl. I'm partial to girls; have to admit it. Bet you're glad you got one out of three, eh? Most women want daughters."

  "Doesn't matter to me," Minnie said, tears dripping down her pale face.

  "Don't say that, Minnie," Chase said.

  Doc gazed at her as if trying to read her mind to know how serious she might be. "Some women feel that way immediately after the pain of childbirth, but it doesn't usually last. Do you mean to put them up for adoption?"

  Eager to hear her answer, Barclay leaned closer.

  "I don't care what happens to them. I don't. I don't." Raw emotion made her voice harsh. She glanced over at the drawers holding her children and fresh tears ran down her face. To realize she cared more than she knew or wanted to admit surprised Barclay.

  "Don't think about it now," Chase told her. "You have plenty of time to decide."

  "What now?" she asked Doc.

  "You should stay in bed for at least a week. Two would be better. You don’t want to do anything to tear the stitching or increase the bleeding and maybe hemorrhage." Doc put away the rest of his supplies. "Where will you go when you leave? You have family nearby?"

  "No," she replied curtly.

  Doc picked up the first boy, placed him on the bed and examined him. "Lungs and heart sound good. Let's check his brother."

  He finished with the second boy and then the girl. "The babies are small. Too small, but that's no surprise. You'll need to keep them warm and feed them often."

  Doc heaved a sigh. "I wish we had a hospital nearby. Barclay?"

  He stepped into the room. "Yes?"

  "Figured you'd be right outside. Get these babies close to a hot stove. Got to keep them warm. They joined the world sooner than they should have. Happens that way with multiple births."

  Barclay nestled the two boys in a blanket-lined drawer and carried it to the door. "I'll send Jared up for the girl. You stay here, Chase."

  Barclay hated leaving, afraid he'd miss something. They desperately needed to learn where the mother belonged, where she lived. Surely her parents would take in her and the babies. Does Minnie even know where she is? What town she's near? He suspected she must have been lost when she found their road. Wherever she'd been living, and where her babies were conceived, couldn't be very far away. He couldn't imagine her traveling a huge distance in her condition.

  It tore him up to think of all she'd likely been through. Considering her attitude toward her babies, he feared she had been raped. The thought infuriated him. No man had the right to treat a woman that way.

  "Jared?" he called when he reached the foot of the stairs.

  "Yeah?" He emerged from the kitchen with a cup of coffee.

  "Go up and bring down the baby girl, drawer and all. Doc says we need to keep them close to a fire. I'll tend to these two."

  "On my way." Jared put down his cup and started up the stairs.

  Barclay placed the drawer on the seats of two chairs facing each other near the fire. Both boys fell asleep.

  Annoyance darkened Jared's eyes as he returned with a squalling baby girl. He gave Barclay a baleful look. "She started crying the minute I picked up the drawer. Never even touched her."

  Barclay fixed two more chairs from the dining room to hold the second drawer. "I'll get a fire going."

  "I'm going to see if Oysters has made fresh coffee. I could sure use a cup." Jared marched to the kitchen.

  Barclay called out, "I want one too."

  Chase descended the stairs, still humming as if all was right with the world and sat beside Barclay. "Doc wants Minnie to sleep for a while."

  When the baby girl continued to cry, Chase gingerly lifted her in his arms.

  "Watch out for the head," Barclay warned. "Her neck is weak."

  Chase didn't answer, too busy trying to juggle the tiny squirming form. No sooner did he have her against his chest than she fell asleep.

  "We need names for these little tykes." Barclay tossed a final log on the growing fire. "Can't just call them Boy One, Boy Two and Girl."

  "The mother should choose those, shouldn't she?" Chase asked.

  "You heard her. She wants nothing to do with them."

  "She doesn't really mean that. She's scared." With a finger, Chase brushed the baby's light brown hair. "That's the softest hair I've ever felt. Hey, she has a dent in her head."

  "Their skulls haven't closed up yet, so they a vulnerable soft spot there," Barclay explained. "A bad bump right there could kill them."

  "I'm surprised you're letting me even hold her." Chase chuckled as the little girl tried to wrap her hand around his thumb. It didn't fit. "I appreciate the trust you're giving me."

  Barclay withheld comment. It wasn't so much that he suddenly trusted Chase. He'd always trusted the boy to a certain degree. In certain ways. Seeing him now, taking responsibility for a baby, showed a new level of maturity in his little brother.

  Jared returned with three cups and the coffee pot. He set them on a table in front of the settee before filling the cups and passing them out. "I've been wondering how we're going to feed them. We have the nipple bottle we use for calves, but it's way too big."

  "Good question," Barclay said, sipping his coffee. One of the boys let out a wail. Barclay looked at Jared who shook his head. Glowering, Barclay put down his cup and went to see to the infant. He was pacing the floor with the little boy in his arms when Doc de
scended the stairs with his bag.

  "Is she all right?" Barclay motioned with his head to the second floor and shifted the baby to his shoulder.

  "Yes and no. Physically, she'll recover just fine. But I'm worried about her attitude toward these poor newborns. They'll need feeding and soon, and I don't feel any confidence in her taking on that chore." Doc rubbed his chin. "Something bad happened to that young lady. I assume you noticed her bruises?"

  Barclay patted the baby's back. "Yes. On her face, arms and her thighs. I figure she's been raped."

  "Raped?" Chase said. "She has other bruises besides the black eye? Who did it?"

  "Some bastard who needs to be taught some manners," Jared said.

  Doc ignored the bitter comment. "She won't say. I just hope she doesn't have injuries we can't see through her shift."

  "What should we do, Doc?" Chase gently placed the little girl in her bed and walked around the room, hands fisted on his hips. "I want to know who did this to her."

  "We may never find out, Chase, if she won't tell us," Barclay said.

  Doc Willoughby stared into the fire several moments. "I'll tell you what. I can't be sure it will work out, but I have a patient in town who lost her child a few months ago. Since then, she's been nursing Mrs. Candless' baby. The mother died and, now, the baby's gone too. I think Cynara has enough milk left to nurse these little ones. Her husband died of smallpox. If you can have someone help get my wagon clear of the creek, I'll pay her a visit in the morning and see if I can talk her into coming here."

  "Oh, the boys got your wagon free, Doc," Jared said. "Slim came and told Oysters. It's parked outside. And the creek is going down. It stopped raining not long after you got here."

  It hit Barclay that he hadn't even noticed the absence of rain hitting the windows or the whine of the wind. Too much going on and too little energy.

  "Good. I'll be on my way then." Doc headed for the door. "Don't fret none over seeing me out, boys. You got your hands full."