by Jane Henry
His eyes softened. “Come here now, honey,” Samuel said, leading me to the milking stool in the corner. He sat and pulled me onto his lap, holding me tightly. “You deserved that and you know it,” he said. “You get riddled with guilt sometimes, and the best cure for that is a clean slate. I’m not angry anymore. And I know this is hard for you, but I must insist you obey me. You understand why?”
I nodded. “Yes, sir,” I sniffled. “You want to make sure I obey you so you can watch out for me.”
“That’s exactly right, honey,” he said. “You need to trust me. All your life you’ve never had someone to trust, now have you?”
My tears started afresh. I could merely shake my head.
“Will you trust me now, then, little Ruth? Do what I say, and I’ll do right by you. I give you my word.”
“I’ll trust you,” I whispered. Still sniffling, I held onto his shirt, feeling his warm, strong arms about me, his kiss at the top of my head protective and soothing. “I promise, Samuel, I will do my best.”
“And that’s all I’m askin’,” he whispered in return.
His hand traveled the length of my hair, smoothing everything back and tucking stray hairs into the bun at the nape of my neck. When he reached my neck, his strong hand wrapped around it, holding me even tighter than before as I felt the tears begin to diminish.
“Shhh,” he said. “It’s all right now.”
“But it won’t be,” I wailed. “Aaron hates me! He won’t let me near Pearl. I can’t do right!”
“Course you can, honey,” Samuel said. “You know it’ll all work out. Just right now, he needs a little time. He’s got a wife about to have a baby, and a home to ready for his family, responsibilities here, and much that must be done. It’s their first baby, and the proud papa needs to make sure everything’s in place. He’s not happy about the theft, either. It indicates somethin’ brewin’.”
I nodded. He was right.
“But Ruth?”
I looked at him as he took my chin in his hand.
“You’ll stay away. You’ll mind Aaron’s decision, or you’ll answer to me. Am I clear? You go over there, and I’ll whip your backside proper. You understand me?”
I nodded as a shiver went over me. Still sore from being spanked, but yet attracted to how stern he was with me. I couldn’t help it. I loved him for it.
“Samuel? Are you sure that he’ll soften over time?”
“I’m sure of it, honey,” he said.
I, however, was not so sure.
* * *
I went back to my home later that afternoon with a heavy heart. Ma had tried hard to talk me into staying for supper with Hannah, but I needed to be alone. I needed some time to think. So I met Hannah coming out of school, and we walked in amiable silence until we were near our house.
“I saw Pearl in town today, Ma,” Hannah said.
“Oh?” I asked, my head kept down, eyes on the dirt road in front of us.
Hannah nodded. “I said hello, and she nodded, but she was a bit different. Distant-like. Why, Ma?”
I sighed. “Pearl and I got into an argument,” I said simply. No need to get into the details.
Hannah nodded. “Matthew and I got into a fight today too,” she said.
“Oh?”
“Yep, I busted his nose and that settled that.”
“Hannah!” I was so shocked I froze. I turned to her, my mouth agape. “You didn’t!”
Her eyes darkened. “Sure as shootin’ did, Ma.”
I blinked, not sure how to continue for a minute, before I found my voice again. “Why, Hannah? Why ever would you do such a thing?”
“He tried to kiss me!”
I bit back a bark of laughter and instead managed to cover it up with a cough. “Did he?” I murmured. “Well, then. I bet you learned him, huh?”
“Oh, I did,” she said, nodding her head vehemently. “That boy won’t be tryin’ to kiss me anytime soon.”
I chuckled ruefully, hoping her words would prove prophetic at least for another few years. “Well,” I said, “you and I are bound to make sure the Stanleys think we’re a fierce breed, now, aren’t we?” I shook my head. “But they’re our friends, Hannah. We need to be kind to our friends.”
“I don’t go around kissing my friends!”
She had a point. “All right, then, darlin’. You have my permission to smack him if he tries to kiss you again.”
“All right.”
We turned then to the sound of hooves pounding hard on the trail. We pulled to the side, as the sound often indicated a horse was moving at a breakneck speed. I started when I saw it was Matthew. He drew the reins on his horse, coming to an abrupt stop.
“Where’s the fire, Matthew?” I asked.
“Oh, no fire, Miss Ruth,” he said. “But it looks like Pearl’s baby is comin’ sooner instead’a later. I’ve been asked to fetch the doctor.”
My eyes closed briefly. How I longed to go to her, to comfort her and to help her. But I could not.
“Go, then, boy,” I ordered. I watched the horse gallop off, as Matthew tipped his hat, and I wondered if there was anything at all I could do. I finally determined that after my earlier conversation with Aaron and the punishment from Samuel, I would do as I was told.
I sighed. Childbirth was painful and dangerous. I longed to go to Pearl. Could I, even knowing I risked the wrath of both Aaron and Samuel?
* * *
I could not disobey Samuel. I would not, no, not even if my limbs longed to run. I had to obey him as it was the only way to prove to him he could trust me. He had forbidden me from contacting Pearl until Aaron gave me leave. So I would do my very best to obey.
Hannah and I made it back to our cabin, and I busied myself with the monotonous routine of cleaning and meal preparation. I sliced our bread and served the cold chicken I’d already cooked. We ate while Hannah regaled me with tales from school, the way Matthew amused the girls by walking the fence backward with his eyes closed. I shook my head. That boy was incorrigible. He’d dipped Hannah’s braids into ink and tried to write with them like the top of the quill. Hannah had managed to get away, and I wondered if the kissing incident had been before or after the attempted hair dipping. It didn’t matter. That my little girl refused to be cowed by a boy did matter, and I was proud of her, though I still wondered if her protestations would end her in trouble.
It was only a matter of time before she’d get in trouble in school, or stop fighting Matthew’s actions. I was grateful for the distraction of her chatter as my mind wandered, wondering how Pearl was. Was she in agony? Had the baby come? Had anyone been there to help her? These questions and more plagued me.
I rarely scrubbed the floor in the evenings, since the light was so poor, but now I could hardly stop myself. I got down on my hands and knees, while Hannah worked over her primer, scrubbing and scrubbing, taking out all my fears and frustrations on the floor until it gleamed in the light of the lantern.
So many questions, so few answers.
Was Pearl all right? Would Aaron let me go to her when the baby came? How could I show him I was not a threat to her?
Would Samuel intervene for me? Was his family safe from those that were predators?
But the one question I put off time and time again, finally came to the forefront.
What was happening between me and Samuel?
Night was falling, and I took my lantern to do my nighttime chores by the barn. Hannah was tidying up inside, her schoolbooks tucked away. It was still only dusk, the sky darkening, and the tree limbs and branches were stark against the night sky. Our livestock was well fed and watered. I was weary, and it was time to get ready for bed. But as I turned to go inside, I heard the pounding of hooves on hard earth. It was Matthew, riding as if his life depended on it.
Chapter Six: New Life
“Matthew!” I said. “What is it?” I knew something was horribly wrong.
“It’s Pearl,” he said.
“
Go on.”
He slung himself down from the horse. “Somethin’ about her waters breakin’. Ma was goin’ to her, but just after she got supper ready to go, she felt faint herself. I had her lie down, and she’s ill, Ruth. Not a tiny bit, but truly ill. I don’t know what’s the matter with Ma, but there ain’t no one to help Pearl. We tried to get the doctor, but he’s visitin’ family or some such. “
Ma often functioned as the town midwife, having delivered dozens of little babies to our bustling town. She’d helped Geraldine deliver her baby, and now Pearl needed her. But how could she help if she were sick?
I nodded. I couldn’t leave Hannah alone, though. I thought briefly of the rustling in the barn, the saddle gone missing from Samuel’s stores, and my little Hannah alone in the house. I was already running to the stable.
“Matthew, you fetch Hannah and bring her back to your house. I’ll ride alone to Aaron’s.”
I’d been strictly forbidden to go to Aaron and Pearl’s, but I didn’t care if Samuel whipped me until I couldn’t sit properly for a month. I would go to Pearl when she needed me, and deal with the overbearing Stanley men later.
I saddled up my horse and watched as Hannah sat astride Matthew’s. I followed them, all of us at a gallop, Hannah hanging onto Matthew ahead of me. I wondered if Ma was okay, if she’d fallen ill so quickly. It was the harsh reality of our existence. Though my own family had fared well when I was younger, I’d seen many a traveler on our caravan headed west take ill and be buried in the ground before nightfall. My mother buried babies, and Geraldine had as well. My own grandmother had been taken by consumption; my pa’s brother plagued with fever an’ ague; my youngest cousin, just knee high to a grasshopper, bit by a rattler and cold by nightfall. Illness meant uncertainty. Childbirth did as well.
I felt the chill of fear creep along my neck, and the reins slipped in my sweaty palms. We didn’t have far to travel, just through the town, which was quiet and unoccupied in the evening like this, save the lone light from the saloon. The only sound was the pounding of horse’s hooves, and my own panting.
I caught a gleam out of the corner of my eye, and turned slightly to the side, but it was difficult to see anything with the jostling of the horse, my legs wrapped around her flanks. It was unusual for anyone to be out in the evening, unless they were paying a visit to the saloon. Someone, or something, was hiding in the woods. I thought of Samuel’s missing saddle, and I tried to get a better look, but when my eyes flickered on the place in the forest where I’d seen something shining, the view I’d gotten disappeared. I couldn’t focus on that right now. I had to get to Pearl.
Pearl and Aaron’s home was a snug place nestled just behind Ma’s and adjacent to Geraldine and Phillip’s. It was a good enough distance away that they had privacy from the rest of their family, but close enough that travel was easy between the two homes. I could see a lamp burning at Ma’s, and another at Pearl and Aaron’s. Matthew and Hannah veered off, and I mentally thanked Matthew for taking care of my girl.
I continued on to Aaron and Pearl’s. When I arrived, I pulled up the reins to bring my horse to a halt. I flung myself down from the saddle and affixed the reins to the post. I patted my horse’s flank. “Good girl,” I whispered. “You did good.”
Straightening my spine, inhaling deeply, I stepped toward the entrance to their home. I’d visited many a time, but I’d never been an unwelcome guest. I knew Aaron was fastidious about the latch being fixed tight, but as they were expecting someone to come help Pearl, I hoped the door would be open. It was. I knocked to alert them of my presence, then gingerly pushed it open and stepped inside. I didn’t want to startle them, but time was pressing.
All was dark but for the small circle of light from the lantern. I could hear them in their bedroom, and hastened to go to them.
When I came to the door of their room, Pearl was lying in bed, moaning, her eyes shut tight, and Aaron’s arm was around her shoulders. He looked positively stricken, his face white as a sheet as he whispered in her ear.
“Aaron? Pearl?” Pearl’s eyes flew open and Aaron whipped his head to me at the sound of my voice.
“Matthew came for me,” I said as explanation. I turned to Pearl, knowing she might not yet know what was happening. “It seems Dr. Gentry is not home, traveling or some such. No one could find him, and Ma is in bed sick.”
“What’s the matter with—” she began, then closed her eyes and grasped the sheets, moaning out loud. Aaron smoothed the hair from her face, but there wasn’t much he could do. The pain would only come quicker and intensify until she had a baby in her arms.
“Right, then,” I said briskly. “There are things that need to be done. Let’s get prepared to have this baby.”
“Have you delivered a baby before?” Aaron asked, his brow furrowed.
I frowned at him. “No, I haven’t. Have you?”
His eyes narrowed. “Well, no, but I’ve delivered calves and foals.” His eyes softened a bit as he stroked his beard. “I surmise it’s much the same, no?”
I rolled my eyes. Confound the man!
“Well, of course it’s much the same but it isn’t the same. Your wife needs a woman’s touch now.”
Pearl’s face had relaxed as the spasm of pain subsided. I continued. “Aaron, you need to fetch me some blankets, and lots of them. Bring your wife a cold cup of water, too.” He looked at me for a minute, and my patience failed. “For goodness’ sake, will you bury whatever anger you have toward me at the moment and take care of your wife? Go!”
He left, and I heard him fiddling with the pans in the kitchen.
I heard Pearl giggling behind me. “Oh, there aren’t many women who’d boss a Stanley man around like that,” she said, covering her hand with her mouth. “Certainly not me. I’m impressed.”
I smiled at her, but her face contorted again as the pain renewed. I held her hand as the pain consumed her.
She gasped. “Ma… Ma said sometimes the pain comes hard and fast with little break in between when the time is right, especially if the waters break, and they did.”
She closed her eyes and I grasped her hand tightly. “It hurts, Pearl. I’ll not lie to you. The pain is going to become more intense, but you can handle this. You are a strong woman, married to a Stanley, for pity’s sake.”
A smile creased her face, the calm settling briefly between contractions of pain.
“You know I’ve been through childbirth only once, and I don’t have much experience.”
“You’ve more’n I do,” she mumbled, her eyes shut tight.
“I do. And I can tell you that this pain is awful but you can take it. You’re strong. Women like me and you, we don’t run from the pain.” I swallowed, suddenly my cheerful words meant to encourage her becoming my own mantra, my own encouragement when all bravado would fail me. “We don’t hide from pain. We don’t break. We walk into the pain, and emerge victorious.”
Her eyes fluttered open and she squeezed my hand. Her eyes were misty. “We do,” she whispered. “Thank you, Ruth.”
“Do you need anything?” came Aaron’s voice outside.
“Get him busy,” Pearl said. “He’s nervous, and it won’t do if he’s too close now.”
“Fire and hot water!” I shouted. “Boil water and give me the cleanest rags you can find.”
When I delivered the animals, we needed hot water nearby, rags to catch the babies and clean the mess birthing would bring, and boiling a large pot of water would keep him busy.
“Good,” Pearl whispered. “Help me see, Ruth. Help me see if the baby’s coming soon.” Her head dropped as another spasm of pain erupted, and I nestled my hand on her swollen abdomen. I could feel the muscles contracting beneath my hand.
“And these pains are coming quickly?” I asked.
She nodded. “Nary a minute in between,” she whispered. “The baby’s coming, and fast. My waters broke and the pain began right away, like.”
I nodded. “I need to look, Pear
l,” I said, not exactly sure what I was looking for, and she immediately spread her legs wide, her head tipping to the side. As quickly as I could, I lifted her skirts and to my shock, a faint wisp of hair indicating the top of her baby’s head was crowning.
“Lord almighty,” I breathed. “Oh, my, we don’t have much time. Already, I can see the top of your baby’s head. This is good. Very good!” At least I thought it was good and I somehow thought if I said it out loud it would make it so. Once the baby’s head emerged, I wasn’t quite sure what would ensue.
Pearl was groaning now, writhing on the meager bedding around her, and I pulled her to sitting up.
“It should help if you sit up,” I explained. “So you can bear down. That’s what I think will help, you know. Let nature work for you. Let’s try that. Do you feel like you can begin pushing?”
“I feel,” she began, panting, her voice rising with each word she spoke, “that I couldn’t,” pant, pant, “hold back pushing now if I tried!”
I nodded. “Push then, Pearl. Push!” I encouraged her, squatting in front of her. I looked at my hands, which I’d scrubbed clean, but they seemed still too filthy to catch a newborn baby. I rubbed them fruitlessly on my apron, wishing I had that hot water I’d asked for.
I reached one hand to Pearl’s as she held on for dear life, grasping so hard I could feel the bones of my fingers grinding together. I gritted my teeth, uniting my agony with hers, and slowly, as she heaved, the top of the baby’s head grew larger, emerging, and I held my breath in wonder as I witnessed the messy, terrifying, miraculous new life emerge from the woman in front of me. I knew when I was delivering a calf, the importance of making sure no part of the animal was caught, or stuck, and fortunately Pearl’s little baby came easily. First, the head emerged, and a spasm stopped while Pearl caught her breath, but her body knew what to do. What seemed liked mere seconds passed before she was pushing, letting loose a final guttural scream as I caught the baby.