With a start, she sat up, as a loud clap of thunder crashed through the semi-darkness.
“Hattie! Hattie, where are you!?” she screamed, her heart thudding in her chest.
“Ah’s right hyrah, Miz Charlotte, an’ Ah got eve’ything we’s gwing ter need.” Hattie set a large deep bowl down on the small wash stand. From the pocket of her dress, she withdrew a spool of heavy thread and a pair of scissors. Cutting two long pieces of thread from the spool, she put them, along with the scissors, into the bowl. Withdrawing a bottle of rubbing alcohol from her other pocket, she unscrewed the cap, pouring the entire bottle over the items in the bowl. With the tasks completed, she turned to check on Charlotte.
“Ah hopes you doan mine. Ah gots mahseff dressed. Jes’ in case wust comes ter wust an’ Ah needs ter go gits one of de han’s ter goes fer de doctah. How’s you feelin, chile?” Hattie brushed the deep auburn hair back from Charlotte’s flushed forehead.
“I’m all right.” She eyed Hattie’s clean black dress with the freshly starched apron and the ever-present swatch of white linen she had tied around her head. She glanced down at her own shivering body. “I need a gown, Hattie. I’m too cold for a bath, but at least get me a clean gown to put on. I’m so wet I’m chillin’. Get one of my old ones outta the…” She drew in a sharp breath as yet another pain washed over her.
“Lawd! Lawd! Dis youngin’ ain’ gwing ter let nuthin’ stan’ in its way. Fo’ dis day’s obber, you’s gwing ter have a baby ter hole ter yo’ breast, Miz Charlotte.” The massive shoulders shook with laughter. As she waited for the pain to subside, Hattie went over to the dresser to get a fresh gown.
“Yes, that’ll do.” Charlotte lifted her arms for the gown Hattie held ready for her. “How in God’s name do women have so many babies when it hurts…so…bad?”
“Da doan members de pain.” Hattie rolled her to one side, pulling the gown down, as far as she could. “All’s da kin think ‘bout is dat lil youngin’ da’s holdin’ in der arms.” Placing her arms beneath Charlotte’s legs, she lifted her and, with one quick yank, pulled the gown the rest of the way into place. “De good Lawd wipes away all de pain outta der memory, sos da kin bes ready fo’ de nex time.” She flipped the covers back up over her.
“I won’t ever forget this, Hattie. No matter how long I live, I won’t forget this.”
“I gots a feelin’ dat’s gwing ter be up ter Mister Eathen.” The springs squealed in protest as Hattie seated her huge bulk on the side of the bed. “Now dat he knows you kin gives him youngin’s, he’s gwing ter wants a whole passel of dem.”
“Then he can have the rest, `cause I’m never goin’ through this torture again. Oh God,” she cried, beating her small fist against the coverlets, “ain’t there anything we can do to hurry this along?”
“Ain’ nuthin’ Ah knows of.” Hattie shrugged her shoulders in defeat. “Dis bein’ yo’ first, it gwing ter tek a w’ile.”
“I wish Eathen was here!” Charlotte moaned deep in her throat. “Why ain’t he here? I need his strength!”
“Ah knows it bes hard widout yo’ man hyrah by yo’ side, but dis ain’ no place fer a man, Miz Charlotte. Why, effen Mister Eathen wuz hyrah, he’d jes’ be weahin’ out de rug.”
“He could at least go for the doctor!”
“Ah doan think we needs no doctah. Ah’s birthed youngin’s befo’. W’ite youngin’s, too. W’en Ah’s a slave, in Miz’cippie. Doan you fret, Miz Charlotte, we bes awright.”
“Don’t be angry with me, Hattie. Not…now. Oh God, I’m so scared.” Her eyes grew large with the knowledge she was trapped with no way to run from the pain. “I want Eathen. I want Doc Nebinger. I want this baby to stop rippin’ me apart!” she sobbed, as yet another pain gripped her already tortured body.
“Ah knows it hurts, Baby Chile, but you’s gwing ter weahs yo’seff out cahyin on dis way.” Hattie tried to soothe away Charlotte’s fears, as best she could. “We’s gwing ter git thoo dis jes fine. De Lawd woan gives you mo’ dan you kin tek. Jes trust in him, chile, an eve’thing bes awright.”
***
By evening, Charlotte wasn’t sure anything would ever be all right again, as the awful pains refused to let up. Outside the storm continued to rage, beating a demanding admittance against the shuttered windows, vying for the attention of the two harried women inside.
“Miz Charlotte, you needs ter lift yo’ hips so Ah kin put sum dry towels unner you. Affer dat, we’s gwing ter have ter use sheets. You’s done gots eve’thin’ else soaked ter drippin’.”
“Yes, Hattie.” Charlotte did as she was told. “Whatever you say.”
Straightening up, Hattie shook her swathed head in bewilderment, as she stared down at the disheveled woman trying so hard to rid herself of her agony. Placing her hands on her ample hips she declared. “Miz Charlotte, Ah doan means ter scares you, but it peers ter me you’s tekin’ too longs ter have dis youngin’. Mout be it’s tuhned wrong. Dat be de case, Ah’s got ter try’n tuhns it. Ah’ll try not ter hahm you, chile, but Ah’s got ter look’n see whut’s gwing on.”
“Please, Hattie, do whatever you have to. I…can’t…take much…more,” she panted.
Being as gentle as she could, Hattie examined the frail woman watching her, her dark blue eyes shadowed with pain. Within moments, Hattie had her answer.
“Well, dat splains dat!” She stood up straight.
“What is it, Hattie?” Charlotte stared up at her. “What’s wrong?”
“Dis lil bugger’s gots its shoulder in de way’s, whut’s de matter. You jes’ lays quiet, Miz Charlotte. An’ doan push. Whutever you does,” Hattie cautioned, holding up her hands, “doan push!”
Hattie spread Charlotte’s trembling thighs and, with a quick prayer, she ignored the screams bursting forth to do what had to be done. Almost at once, the baby crowned.
“Awright, Miz Charlotte,” she declared, standing back out of the way. “You kin push now.”
With all her might, Charlotte bore down, pushing the tiny child the rest of the way into the world. Hattie wasted no time in tying off the umbilical cord. After checking to make sure the first tie-off was far enough forward from the baby’s navel and the second tie-off was spaced far enough ahead of the first, she took up the pair of scissors to snip the cord between the two.
As Hattie continued to work, Charlotte slumped back on the bed, letting her muscles relax, too tired to even inquire as to the sex of her newborn, and she breathed a sigh of relief she didn’t have to feel any more pain. Sure of her own and the baby’s safety in Hattie’s competent hands, she stretched her tired legs out straight, being careful not to bump the baby lying between them. She was about to close her eyes and give into her body’s need for sleep when she remembered her body still had more to do. Lifting her head, she looked around to find Hattie. Her eyes flew open, all thought of sleeping forgotten, as she saw Hattie holding her newborn infant upside down, one large hand holding onto the tiny ankles, while her other hand slapped the baby a good smack across its bare bottom.
“Hattie! What in the name of God are you doin’!?”
“Gittin’ her breaf gwing. De best way ter do dat’s swat’s her on de butt. Now dat she’s hollerin’,” she slipped her empty hand up behind the tiny neck and in one fluid motion cradled the infant in her arms, “we kin see ‘bout gittin’ de afferbirth outta de way.”
“I don’t know if I have the strength to do anymore.” Charlotte slumped back on the bed, forcing herself to take deep breaths.
“Alls you have ter do’s give a big push w’en Ah tells you. Affer dat, Ah kin git you cleaned up.”
Too weak to argue, Charlotte forced herself to be patient a while longer.
Later, bathed and wearing a fresh gown, Charlotte lay with the baby cradled in her arm. The glow shining from her damp eyes as she gazed upon her newborn daughter brought a light chuckle from Hattie.
“Now wuzn’ she wuth all de trouble? Come nex year, Mist’ Eathen be wantin’ a son,” Hat
tie ventured.
“I already told you, Hattie, I’ll never go through that much pain again. I meant what I said. If he’s set on havin’ a son, he’ll sire it with someone other’n me.”
The sharp cry of the baby interrupted anything Hattie had to offer in the way of a reprimand.
“Ah’ll go fix her up a sugar-tit ‘til yo’ milk comes in. Right now, all’s you gots is mos’ly water an dis youngin’ bes hongry fer mo’n dat.”
“I know you’re upset with me, Hattie, but Eathen will have to understand. I’m thirty-three-years-old and Eathen’s thirty-six. Accordin’ to Doc Nebinger, we’re too old to be startin’ a family.”
“Dat doctah doan know nuthin’.” Hattie pursed her lips in a disgusted frown. “You’s not too ole fer havin’ youngin’s. Ah had mah fust an las’ chile w’en Ah’s jus’ a year oler’n you. De good Lawd tuck her w’en she wuz still a babe in mah arms.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Hattie.” Charlotte glanced up at her. “You must have been heartbroken.”
“Yes’m, Miz Charlotte, Ah tru’ly wuz.” She stood there for a moment, deep in thought. “Dis might be an awful thing ter says, but Ah’s almos’ glad she daid. She’d been sold, jes lak her ma. Dis way, kain nobody ever hu’t her again.”
The sadness in the big woman’s eyes as she shared this pain tugged at Charlotte. After all the years they had been together, she thought she knew everything there was to know about her. Now, as she watched Hattie standing there, Charlotte glanced down at the baby she held in her arms and realized how much she had taken for granted.
“Ah’ll go gits sumpin’ ter quiets her. Ah bes right back.”
As she lay in the big four-poster bed Eathen had had hand crafted just for her, Charlotte’s thoughts flew back to the day she’d first laid eyes on her forty-two-year-old housekeeper. It had been while she and Eathen visited friends in Mississippi. Although the couples enjoyed closeness, she and Eathen did not share in their deep-rooted beliefs in a person’s right to own another human being. Some years back, in 1865, slavery had been abolished – to the dismay of millions of southerners whose very livelihood depended on the life blood of its Negroes. Already staggering under the heavy blow of losing to the North, the loss of free labor all but brought the South to its knees. Unable now to afford the services of the woman who had worked in their house and given them over nine years of her life, Hattie’s owners gave her notice she would no longer be needed. Taking pity on the woman, Eathen offered her a job as housekeeper on the Thornton ranch. He never once regretted his decision.
Returned to the present, Charlotte rocked the crying baby, trying to no avail to quiet her. With great relief, she looked up to see Hattie’s smiling face.
“Han’s her ter me, Miz Charlotte. Ah gots jes whut dis chile be needen’. Dat’s…right.” She smiled down into the chubby little face. “You best hesh yo’ mouf wid all dat cah’ien on an teks whut ole Hattie has fer you.” She moved the home-made nipple against the tiny mouth. The baby quieted almost at once, taking the nipple into her puckered mouth.
“Ah’ll says one thing fer sho. You’s gwing ter has yo’ han’s full wid dis’n. Mah ole mama ust ter say, W’en a chile’s born wid flamin’ ha’r, dem dat begat, best beware.”
***
In the days following the baby’s birth, Hattie proved to be a Godsend in the Thornton household. Bright and early every morning, she made sure both mother and daughter had their bath and Charlotte had a hot nourishing meal all ready for her. And, Hattie refused to leave the room until her charge had eaten every bite.
“Hattie, I swear if you keep feedin’ me like this, by the time Eathen comes home, I’ll be so fat he’ll divorce me and find himself some skinny little gal he can still get his arms around.”
“You doan need ter worry none bout Mist’ Eathen. W’en he lay eyes on dat lil red ha’rd baby you be holin’ in yo’ arms, he gwin ter be proud ter bustin’.”
“I hope you’re right, Hattie. He expected a son,” Charlotte whispered, unable to meet the dark eyes staring down at her.
“Sho, dat’s whut da thinks da wants til da gits a lil girl ter hangs on da eve’y word. Den da acts lak she be de best thing de good Lawd ever put breaf in.”
“I just want her to grow up healthy and with good values. She can’t do that if her every whim is catered to.”
“Dat’s whar you comes in, Miz Charlotte. As her ma, you gots ter make sho she knows whut bes ‘portant an whut ain’ ‘portant,” Hattie sniffed, squaring her large shoulders.
“Eathen’s a powerful, rich man, Hattie, and this bein’ his only child, he’ll want to give her the world.”
“You growed up not wantin’ fer nuthin’ an you sho turned out awright.” Hattie cocked her head to one side, staring at the woman who, to her way of thinking, worried herself for no good reason. “Ah thinks yo’s jes borrin’ trouble.”
“Maybe,” Charlotte whispered, but for some reason, she didn’t think so.
At the sound of a buckboard drawing up out front, Hattie went to the window. The wide smile flitting across her broad face as she pulled back the curtain left no doubt in Charlotte’s mind about who had arrived.
“I think your daddy’s home, little one.” She nuzzled the baby’s warm neck.
“Yas’m, Miz Charlotte. Dat who it bes awright. He sho gwing be s’prised w’en he sees his lil baby’s awready here safe an soun’.”
“Hurry, Hattie.” Charlotte sat up straighter in the bed, her shaking hands going quickly to her tousled long red hair. “Hand me my brush and a wet washcloth, so I can tidy myself before he gets here.”
As Charlotte groomed herself to greet her husband, Hattie chuckled. “Dis sho gwing be a big day in dis house. Mist’ Eathen done got hisseff a bran’ new lil baby’s ter holds in his big arms.” Laying the brush down on the night stand, Charlotte turned toward the door just as it opened.
“Darlin’, I’m sorry I was so late gettin’ back, I…” he began then stopped as his deep set, dark blue eyes caught sight of the baby Charlotte held in her arms.
“What…how…he’s already here?” he stammered, tossing his gray Stetson hat across the room and moving to where Charlotte lay smiling.
“Yes, darlin’. Except, you have a daughter, not a son.”
“May I hold her?” Eathen had already reached out for the tiny bundle. Without a word, Charlotte handed him their child, her eyes misting as she noted the gentle way in which he held her.
“I’ll be damned if she ain’t the most beautiful thing I ever laid eyes on,” he declared, running a callused finger down the side of the baby’s face. “Her skin’s softer’n satin.”
“Are you sorry she ain’t the son you wanted, Eathen?” Charlotte turned her face to the wall, unwilling to glimpse the disappointment she thought sure she would see if their eyes met.
Cradling his daughter against his big chest, he seated himself on the side of the bed. “She’s everything I could ever want.”
Charlotte turned back to stare at him. The happiness covering his face as he gazed at their child left no doubt in her mind that he told her the truth. “What are we gonna name her?” Charlotte laughed, giddy with the happiness filling her heart right at that moment. “We can’t very well name her Charles Eathen like we’d planned.”
“Why don’t we name her after my mother?” He eased the baby back down on his lap, unable to take his eyes off her.
“Jessica?” Charlotte’s brow creased in doubt. “She really don’t look like a Jessica to me.” She reached out; moving Eathen’s hand to a more supporting position beneath the baby’s wobbling neck. “Believe me, Eathen; this child already has a fiery temper. Your mother always seemed so timid.”
“Then we won’t put quite so much responsibility on her. We’ll call her Jessie,” Eathen bent his dark head to place a light kiss on the baby’s round cheek. “Jessie Victoria Thornton.”
“I like that.” Charlotte smiled, then nodded, as she turned the name over in her mind. �
��Little Jessie. A sweet name for a sweet little girl.” She looked across the room to where Hattie stood watching them. “What do you think, Hattie? Does she look like a Jessie to you?”
“Yas’m, she tru’ly do,” Hattie replied in all seriousness. “Wid dat fiahy ha’r an dem bri’ht blue eyes, she gwing bes a lil heart breaker w’en she git ol’er.”
“You break all the hearts you want, my angel,” Eathen rocked his daughter in his arms. “Just don’t ever break mine.”
Relaxing among the plump, feathered pillows, Charlotte watched her husband with their new daughter. The gentleness with which he held her and the low-pitched timbre of his deep voice as he talked to her brought a smile to Charlotte’s face. The big strapping man she loved with all her heart was already putty in the hands of a five pound, four ounce baby girl.
“Miz Charlotte, Mist’ Eathen, Ah gots things ter do downstairs, sos Ah’ll be gwing on out now,” Hattie said, leaning against the bedroom door.
When she didn’t leave, Charlotte looked over at her.
“Ah’s jes’ wonderin’ effin ah should be a-gittin’ a room ready fer Mist’ Eathen, or ef he’s a gwing be stayin’ wid’…” she broke off her words, shuffling from one foot to another.
“Eathen?” Charlotte glanced at her handsome husband.
“I’ll leave it up to you, Charlotte.” Eathen’s roguish eyes challenged her.
With a mischievous smile playing at the corners of her full mouth, she stared into the eyes of the man baiting her. “I think my husband will be just fine sleeping in our own bed, Hattie.”
“Ah heerd dat!” Hattie chuckled, closing the door behind her.
Alone, the couple became shy with each other. After removing his gray suit jacket and loosening his tie, Eathen settled himself once more on the side of the bed to draw Charlotte into his arms. “I’ve missed you, woman,” he growled, pressing his full mouth against the soft skin of her neck.
Fated Memories Page 7