Meadowlark

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Meadowlark Page 12

by Carolyn Lampman


  “That’s much better,” Garrick said with a chuckle. “You’ll make a good Norwegian wife yet.”

  “Jeg elsker deg, Garrick!” she said, shaking her finger at him fiercely. Then she smiled sweetly. “You know, I kind of like this curse of yours. It has a very satisfying sound to it.”

  The last vestiges of uneasy constraint disappeared as they grinned at each other across the supper table.

  For the next three days Garrick worked from dawn to dusk in the building on Price Street and Becky dreaded the day it opened for business. He was so obviously pleased with the prospect that she kept her thoughts to herself. On the morning of the fourth day, he sought her out at The Green Garter, his face shining with excitement.

  “I’ve finally got it all set up.” He took the piece she was mending from her hands and pulled her to her feet. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  “Right now?”

  “Ja, you have something better to do maybe?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  Becky swallowed her protests as he led her outside and down the street. There was no way she could tell him her true feelings about his casino.

  “The sign isn’t finished yet,” Garrick said as they came to the corner of Grant Street, “but other than that it’s ready to open.”

  From the outside, the building hadn’t changed much since the first time she’d seen it. Oddly enough, the only difference seemed to be that the entrance had been replaced by a huge set of double doors. What in the world?

  “Close your eyes, Becky.”

  “But I—”

  “Humor me.”

  Becky closed her eyes obediently. There was a moment’s pause as Garrick stopped to open the door, then he took her hand and led her inside.

  “All right,” he said proudly, “you can look now.”

  Reminding herself to act pleased no matter how gaudy and scandalous she found the interior; Becky opened her eyes and gasped in shocked surprise. Expecting crystal chandeliers and garish wallpaper, she gaped like a fool as she stared at the dirt floor beneath her feet and the vast array of tools along the walls. A large metal contraption that looked like a stove with an open firebox dominated the room. A huge set of bellows and a shiny new anvil were set up nearby. All at once, the truth hit her. “A blacksmith shop!”

  “Well, of course.” Garrick gave her a puzzled look. “What else?”

  “I thought...it never occurred to me...” Suddenly she giggled. “Oh, Garrick, I thought you were going to open a casino.”

  “A casino! Whatever gave you an idea like that?”

  “You said you were going to make a business out of your one natural talent. When Ox told me how good you are at playing blackjack, I thought that’s what you meant.”

  “You thought I was planning to be a professional gambler?” Garrick was incredulous. “That’s no kind of a job! Only a fool would depend on his luck at cards.”

  “That’s all you did for three nights,” she reminded him.

  “It was the only way I could get the money I needed. I had an incredible run of good luck, but it wouldn’t have lasted. It never does.”

  “I’m so proud of you,” she said, giving him an impulsive hug. “You took your dream and made it a reality. Think of it, Garrick, a blacksmith, just like your grandfather!”

  “Ja.” His arms closed around her automatically. “And you’re the one who reminded me how badly I wanted that dream.” It felt good to hold her against his chest and share his excitement—too good. With a twist of regret, he set her away from him. “Do you want a tour?”

  “Oh, yes. Show me everything.”

  For nearly an hour, they explored the smithy as Garrick explained the function of various pieces of equipment. Though Becky didn’t understand all he told her, she hung on every word. There was a joyful enthusiasm about him that she’d never seen before. It was like standing in the first sunbeams of spring, and she basked in the warm glow.

  “And this one is even better than my grandfather’s—Becky, what’s wrong?” Garrick asked in concern as she put her hands on the small of her back to ease the ache that had settled there.

  “Oh, nothing. My back just hurts a little.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “It’s not all that bad. Besides, I want to hear more about your smithy.”

  “There’ll be plenty of time for that. Maybe you’d like to come back tomorrow when I fire up the forge for the first time.”

  “Could I?”

  “Ja, but now I think it’s time to go home.”

  Once outside, Becky glanced uneasily at the sky as Garrick closed the shop. Though it was still early afternoon, a cold breeze blew down the valley from the west, pushing heavy gray clouds across the face of the sun.

  “Looks like we could get some snow,” Garrick said, glancing up at the sky as he joined her. “Winter comes early and stays late up here.”

  “I know. I tried to talk Pa into moving down the mountain into Fort Brown last winter because of the snow.” Becky shivered and pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders. “I’m glad we have a cabin. I never want to spend another winter in a tent.”

  “We should be plenty warm. I have enough wood cut to last until May if we need it.”

  She smiled up at him. “We’ll be as cozy as a couple of hibernating bears.”

  The image of them cuddled together like two bears sleeping the winter away was as appealing as it was dangerous. Garrick tried to ignore it as they walked down the street together. “We better make sure everything is taken care of in case we have a blizzard.”

  “You think we might?” There was a touch of fear in Becky’s eyes as she looked up at him.

  “No, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”

  Garrick’s words proved to be prophetic. By suppertime, the wind was howling around the cabin, and the snow, which had started to fall shortly after they reached home, was already piling in high drifts.

  Inside the cabin, Garrick was trying to think of something to distract Becky as she flitted about. He’d never seen her so nervous. It seemed as though she’d already cleaned everything in the house three times. She even got out the stove-black to polish her new stove. She’d been chattering incessantly since he came in.

  “Are you sure Sophie and the colt will be all right?”

  “They’re fine. The shed’s tight, and Sophie has plenty to eat.” Garrick paused. Perhaps this was the distraction he’d been looking for. If he got her to thinking about the horses instead of the storm... “You know we’re going to have to think of a name for the foal. We can’t keep calling him colt.”

  “That’s true.” She cocked her head to one side. “Any ideas?”

  “How about Socks? He has four of them.”

  Becky shook her head. “That’s fine for now, but what about when he grows up? He needs a name that makes you think of speed, not laundry.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well...like...I don’t know, something noble, like a hero in a book.”

  “Hmm, a hero. Lochinvar?”

  “Oh, no!”

  “It’s not all that bad,” Garrick said, a little surprised at her horrified expression, “but if you don’t like it...”

  “No, Garrick, it’s not that. I think...I’m afraid.... Oh!”

  Garrick was on his feet and at her side in an instant. “Becky, what’s wrong?”

  “I...I’m all wet! Angel said if that happened to send for the doctor.” She looked up at him with frightened eyes. “The baby’s coming, Garrick. Now!”

  Chapter 16

  “Now?” Garrick glanced uneasily toward the window where the blizzard howled then back to Becky. “You’re sure?”

  “No, But Angel said...Oh, my, God,” Becky clutched the edge of the mantel as the first hard pain hit. “Garrick!”

  His heart sank as he placed his hand against her abdomen and felt the telltale ripple of a contraction. There could be n
o doubt. Becky’s labor was beginning.

  “The little one is tired of waiting,” he said with a lightness he didn’t feel. As the tautness under his hand eased, he tried encouraging. “We better get ready to welcome him.”

  “What do we do?”

  “To start with, you need to go put your nightgown on.”

  She looked up at him uncertainly. “We’re going to have to do it without Dr. Caldwell, aren’t we?”

  “I’m sorry, Becky. I’d get him if I could.”

  “I know.” Her voice quavered slightly as she tried to pretend it didn’t matter. “H-have you done this before?”

  “Ja. When the twins were born, I stayed with Mama while Papa went to get the doctor. My little brother and sister didn’t wait for him to get back.”

  “How did you know what to do?”

  “My mother told me.”

  “Then we’ll be all right.”

  Garrick wished he could share Becky’s confidence in his expertise. A woman’s first birth was bound to be more difficult than her seventh. “Ja, we’ll be fine. You get changed now, and I’ll be right back.”

  “Wh—where are you going?”

  “Out to the shed.”

  “What for?”

  “I have to get something,” he said over his shoulder as he headed for the door. “Don’t worry, I won’t be gone more than a few minutes.”

  But Garrick still hadn’t returned by the time Becky had cleaned herself up and donned her nightgown. Where is he? What if he’s lost in the storm?

  The first fingers of panic were starting to uncurl in the pit of her stomach when the door finally swung open and Garrick came in, stamping the snow from his boots.

  “I’m glad I took the time to string a rope from the shed to the house this afternoon,” he said.

  “It’s that bad?”

  “I don’t think I’d have found my way back without it.” He tossed a long leather strap onto the table and began to unbutton his coat.

  “You went all the way out there to get one of the reins off Sophie’s bridle?”

  “It’ll help you when the baby arrives.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You will when the time comes.” He smiled slightly. “My mother was quite insistent about it. Any more pains yet?”

  “No. Do you think it was all a mistake?”

  “Maybe. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

  They didn’t have to wait long. Garrick only had time to remove his coat before the second pain hit with double the intensity of the first. It left Becky gasping for air and frightened half out of her wits.

  “I guess that answers our question,” Garrick said. “Let’s get you into bed.”

  “Garrick?” Becky’s voice wobbled tearfully as she lay down on the bunk. “Is it supposed to hurt that bad?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Sophie didn’t act like it hurt her.”

  “She did before you came in. Besides, it seems to be harder for people than for animals.”

  “Why?”

  Garrick shook his head as he smoothed back her hair. “I don’t know, little one, but we’ll get through this together.”

  For the next hour, Garrick spent the time between pains preparing the cradle, sharpening Becky’s scissors, and doing a dozen other little chores. But the moment another pain rolled through her body, he was there holding her hand, sponging her brow, and speaking words of encouragement with that deep, wonderful voice of his. He seemed to know instinctively when every pain seized her and was always at her side within seconds.

  At last everything seemed to be arranged to his satisfaction. Even the mysterious leather strap had been cut in two and each half tied to the foot of her bed. From that time on, he never left her.

  She’d never seen her husband so garrulous before. He told her stories, he rubbed her back, he even sang to her. And always he was there, solid, strong, his huge hand holding hers as she crushed his fingers against the agony.

  By midnight, the pains were three minutes apart and Becky was sure she was dying. “This… can’t…be…normal,” she panted as a particularly intense contraction finally released its grip. “Nobody would ever have more than one child if they had to go through this every time.”

  “I think we’re almost there, little one. Don’t give up.”

  “Fat chance of that,” she hissed as another spasm wracked her body. “I’d have quit hours ago if I could!”

  As Garrick gently sponged the sweat from her brow, he remembered their conversation after the hailstorm. Maybe he could distract her from the pain. “Tell me about the picnic you and your mother went on.”

  “What?”

  “The picnic. Was it the first time you’d been to the island?”

  “No, but my grandmother usually went with us. She always made me sit up straight and fussed if I got dirty.”

  “But not this time,” Garrick said soothingly as another pain racked her body.

  “No...” Becky said when she was able, “it was just Mama and me. She borrowed a boat from a friend and we rowed out to the island.” Though the pains never stopped, she was able to block the worst of it from her mind. She described the day in great detail, reliving every precious moment.

  When she had told him all there was to tell about the picnic, he asked her about other things she’d done with her mother and then her childhood friends. And so it went, on through the night.

  Toward dawn, the contractions were so close together that Becky barely had any rest in between. No longer able to think coherently, she cursed, spewing forth every vile expletive she’d ever heard during her years in the mining camps. Her vocabulary amazed even Garrick who had spent his adult life around soldiers, railroaders, and miners.

  Though Garrick never allowed it to show, he was worried. How much longer could this go on? He tried to ignore the fear as he rubbed her belly, attempting to ease the agony. He’d heard stories of women who labored for as much as three days, but surely not this intensely. Becky’s face was nearly gray with exhaustion, and her grip on his hand increasingly weak. She couldn’t take much more.

  “Garrick...” she gasped suddenly, “it feels different...Oh, God...”

  “Like you need to push?”

  “Yes...I...oh...Garrick.”

  “I think it’s time for the straps,” he said with relief. Not for the first time that night, Garrick blessed his mother for telling the frightened sixteen-year-old what was going on as he delivered her twins. If he was right, Becky was in the last stages of labor, and their ordeal was almost over.

  “Scoot down and put your feet on the end of the bed,” he said, helping her slide to the bottom of the bunk. “Bend your knees... That’s it.” He wrapped the ends of the straps once around each of her hands so she could hold onto them. “Now pull on these as you push.” Garrick moved around to the end of the bed and lifted Becky’s nightgown up over her knees.

  Becky looked up at him with bleary eyes. “Garrick?”

  “It’s all right, little one.” He smiled encouragingly. “We’re about to have a baby.”

  “God, I hope so,” she gritted out as she pulled on the leather straps. “Oh my—”

  “That’s it, Becky, push.”

  Twenty minutes later, Garrick was near panic. Becky’s knuckles were white where she gripped the reins and her strength was fading fast. If something didn’t happen soon ... “Come on, Becky,” he pleaded. “Don’t give up now; we’re almost there.”

  “I...don’t...think...I...can.”

  “Yes, you… Becky, I see him! Just one or two more now.” Garrick supported the baby’s head as Becky strained one last time. With a feeling of incredible joy, he watched the baby slide from its mother’s body into his waiting hands.

  In less than a heartbeat, he knew something was wrong. The baby wasn’t breathing. Willing himself to stay calm, Garrick turned the infant over and massaged its back with three fingers. Nothing.

  Maybe there was
something in the way. Garrick put one finger in the baby’s mouth and removed a thick glob of mucus. Still no reaction. Desperately, he held the baby aloft and smacked it lightly on the rear.

  There was a choking, gasping cry, and suddenly the cabin was filled with a howl of infantile rage as the baby sucked air into its lungs and gave voice to its annoyance. Garrick didn’t think he’d ever heard a more beautiful sound.

  “Garrick, is he all right?”

  “Ja, fine,” Garrick said thickly as he swallowed against the knot of emotion in his throat. There were tears in his eyes as he gently laid the screaming baby on Becky’s stomach. “But I think you should know, he’s a girl.”

  “A girl? Are you sure?”

  Garrick paused in the process of tying off the umbilical cord with a piece of thread and grinned at her. “Ja, I’m sure. It’s pretty hard to make a mistake like that.”

  Becky struggled to focus her eyes on the baby as Garrick efficiently snipped through the umbilical cord with the scissors and cleaned off the baby. A girl. She had a daughter.

  As Garrick wrapped the baby in a blanket and placed it in her arms, Becky smiled. For the first time, she realized this wasn’t Cameron’s baby. It was hers...hers and Garrick’s. She opened the blanket and examined her child, counting the miniature fingers and toes, marveling at the perfection of the tiny arms and legs. “Oh, Garrick, isn’t she beautiful?”

  “Ja,” Garrick said with a smile, “just like her mother.”

  In spite of bone-deep exhaustion and the daunting prospect of all he’d have to do before he could rest, Garrick didn’t think he’d trade places with anyone in the world at that moment.

  The sky was a brilliant blue vault over the meadow of wild flowers. The heady smell of mountain iris and columbine filled the air as Becky twirled around, her arms stretched to the sky in joyous abandon. Without warning, Garrick was there, lifting her high into his arms, spinning with her on an invisible axis as they fell gently to the earth. The grass became a giant feather bed that cushioned them while their bodies intertwined like two vines, and the shrill wail of a mountain lion echoed around them.

 

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