by Bonnie Leon
Douglas stepped forward. “I’m going to miss you . . . Klaus.” He swallowed hard. “You’re the best whittler I ever knew. Thanks for teaching me. I figure you might even teach Jesus now that you’re up in heaven.” He wiped away tears and stepped back.
Robert, who was barely seven, clung to his mother but said in a raspy voice, “Sometimes you were kind of cranky, but I knew it was because you were old and not feeling so good. I’m never gonna forget how we used to go fishing together.”
Silence settled over the small group. Paul thought he ought to speak but didn’t know what to say. All he could think about was that poor Klaus had died alone.
Patrick cleared his throat. “Well, Klaus, you were a good neighbor and friend. We’re gonna miss you, but I figure you’re a lot better off now. You loved God, so I know you’re with him. There’ll be no more sorrow and no more tears for you. Thanks for being a fine example to my children and to me and Sassa too.” He looked at the others, his eyes brimming with tears.
The boys sniffled and wiped their noses, Sassa cried into a handkerchief. Lily remained stoic, but stepped forward and dropped the flowers onto the casket. She stared at it, then turned and walked away.
Patrick pushed his hat back on his head. “Well, I guess we better get to it.” He gave Sassa a knowing look.
“Okay, boys. I need help cleaning out the chicken house.” She ushered them away.
Patrick picked up a shovel and scooped dirt onto the casket. His heart heavy, Paul used the other shovel and helped bury the old man. After Patrick pounded a wooden cross into the ground, Paul walked home, feeling empty. Life was a puzzle. A man was born, lived, and then died. What was the meaning of it all? Paul’s soul ached for an answer. Was doing good while one lived enough? He’d always believed in a God of mercy who loved his children. So great was his love that he offered his own Son. Paul had never doubted . . . and then Susan had died. Why?
That night, Paul had barely fallen asleep when a knock at his door startled him awake. Still mostly asleep, he stumbled to answer it. “Who’s there?”
“Me. Patrick.” He sounded agitated.
Paul opened the door. “Is everything all right? Has something happened?”
“It’s Lily. The baby’s coming.”
“Are you sure? I thought she wasn’t due for nearly a month.”
Patrick shrugged. “She’s acting just like Sassa did every time.”
“Come on in. It’ll only take me a minute to get dressed.” Paul hurried to his room and pulled pants and a shirt on over his long johns. He pushed his feet into his boots and laced them. If Lily’s doctor, in Seattle, had been correct, the baby was several weeks early. That could mean problems, especially for the baby. Panic tried to bully him.
He hadn’t delivered many babies. Since losing his own son, he’d done his best to steer clear of laboring mothers. He’d counted on Lily having an uncomplicated birth, which meant Sassa wouldn’t need him to help bring her grandchild into the world.
He grabbed his medical bag and followed Patrick into the night air. As they walked up the trail, the lantern cast shadows on the bushes. Paul’s mind was busy calculating what could go wrong. Babies born this early sometimes had difficulty breathing. Or they might not breathe at all. Premature infants sometimes didn’t have the suckling reflex. They were susceptible to illness and there was a whole list of other maladies they might face.
Carrying an air of confidence Paul didn’t feel, he followed Patrick into the house. It felt overly hot and smelled of cooked fish.
“She’s upstairs,” Patrick nodded toward the stairway.
Paul hurried up the steps. He glanced in the first door. The boys were huddled on their beds, looking anxious. “Hi, boys,” he said cheerfully.
“Hi,” Douglas said. “Is Lily going to die?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Is she going to heaven like Klaus?” Robert asked.
“No. She’s just having a baby. She’ll be fine, but it takes awhile and it hurts.”
“She was moaning real loud and crying.”
“That’s normal. Try not to worry.”
“Okay.” Robert sat more upright. “I’m not so scared with you here.”
Paul nodded. He’d do his best, but that might not be enough. He hurried down the hallway to the next door. A groan came from inside. Sassa sat on a chair beside a bed, holding Lily’s hand.
Paul moved to the bed and leaned over Lily. “Hi, neighbor.”
She looked at him. “I’m so glad you’re here. The baby’s not supposed to come yet.”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s just fine.” Paul fought to keep a tone of assurance in his voice. “When did the contractions start?”
Before Lily could answer, Sassa said, “Just after we buried Klaus. But they weren’t bad, so I thought they were just those early pains a mother gets. But they didn’t go away. Then awhile ago she lost her water and the pains got real bad.” Sassa glanced at Lily, who had rolled onto her side and was holding her abdomen. She let out a whimper. “She’s so early we thought you should come.”
Paul checked Lily’s pulse. It was fast, understandably so. “How are you feeling?”
“How do you think?” Lily rolled onto her back and wiped damp hair off her face. “That was a bad one.”
“Let me check you over,” he said, placing a thermometer in Lily’s mouth. He took a stethoscope out of his bag and listened to her heartbeat, then the baby’s. “Sounds good and strong.” He took the thermometer out of her mouth. “No fever.”
He smiled down at her. “Everything seems fine.”
“But I’m not due until the end of the month.”
“Babies have a mind of their own, and sometimes they get here before we expect them to and they do just fine.” Paul didn’t see any reason to tell her about all the possible problems.
Lily closed her eyes.
“Try to relax and rest while you can.”
Lily took several deep breaths.
Paul placed his hand on her abdomen. He could feel the muscles tighten.
“Another one’s coming.” Her voice sounded panicked. She grabbed hold of her mother’s hand.
“Breathe slowly,” Paul said. “Don’t tighten up.”
Lily blew out a breath and took in a slow, deep one and then blew it out gradually. “It’s getting . . . worse,” she panted.
Paul left his hand on her abdomen. “Okay, it’s easing off. It’ll be over soon.” He looked at Sassa. “How often are they coming?”
“Every couple of minutes.”
“Paul, they’re getting worse. Really bad,” Lily said. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
He smiled. “You can do it. Remember, you’re the woman who can do anything.”
“Not this.”
Using a washcloth, Sassa patted the sheen off her daughter’s face. “You will do well. I know it.”
“Listen to your mother. You’re one of the strongest women I know.” He turned to Sassa. “I’ll need some hot water and washcloths. And do you have a birthing blanket?”
“Yes. I’ll get it.” She hurried out of the room.
Paul turned back to Lily. “Have you had any pressure on your bottom?”
“Yes, with the last two pains.”
“You feel like you need to push?”
Lily shook her head no, then she took a deep breath as another contraction hit.
“Probably won’t be long now.”
Lily grabbed his hand. “I’m afraid.”
“I know. But it’s going to be all right,” Paul said, his tone steady and calm.
Lily panted. “But the baby . . . it’s too soon.”
“All you need to think about right now is bringing this child into the world. I’ll take care of the rest,” he said, but couldn’t keep from wondering if he could. What if the baby wasn’t ready for the world? Did he know what to do if it was too premature? He hadn’t been able to save his own son or his wife. What made him think
he was ready for this? He wanted to walk out and not come back.
“I’d better wash up.”
He passed Patrick in the doorway. His brows furrowed, he stared at his daughter. “Is she going to be all right?”
Paul pressed a hand on his friend’s arm. “She’ll be fine.” He kept saying the words, but he was afraid.
“And the baby?”
Paul wasn’t about to lie to Patrick. “I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see. It’s pretty early.” He moved into the hallway and hurried down the stairs and to the kitchen, where he washed his hands thoroughly in the sink.
Sassa had washcloths and towels draped over her shoulder and a heavy blanket folded in her hands. “I’ll come back for the water.”
“I’ll get it,” Paul said.
Sassa headed up the stairway.
Paul toweled dry, lifted the cast iron pot off the stove, and headed up the stairs. When he walked into the room, he set the water on the bureau next to Lily’s bed. Paul helped Lily off the bed and allowed her to lean on him while Sassa removed the bedding and replaced it with the birthing blanket. Paul kept a hand on Lily when she lay back down.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said and then groaned. “Oh, I have to push.”
“Okay,” Sassa said, stroking Lily’s forehead. “Listen to your body. It will tell you what to do.”
When the contraction passed, Paul said, “Lily, I’m going to have to check you to see where the baby is.”
She nodded. While Paul examined her, Lily stared at the ceiling.
He couldn’t see the head, so he felt to determine the infant’s position. It hadn’t moved very far into the birth canal. “Everything’s fine, but it’s going to take some extra work to get this baby down. It’s in a posterior position.”
“What’s that mean?” asked Sassa.
“Most babies come out looking at the floor, but he’s facing the ceiling. It’s more difficult to birth a baby in that position and more painful. I may have to turn him.”
Lily labored two more hours and finally her little boy entered the world. His cry was weak, but he was breathing on his own and his color was good. Relief filled Paul.
“Oh, thank the Lord,” Sassa said, pressing her palms together.
“You have a little boy, Lily,” Paul said, clamping the cord and cutting it. He listened to the baby’s heart and breathing. “He sounds healthy.” He handed the infant off to Sassa.
She cleaned and swaddled him and then placed the little one in Lily’s arms. “He’s perfect.” Her eyes brimmed with tears as she looked at her daughter. “All babies are a blessing from God. This little boy is God’s creation.”
Lily took her mother’s hand and squeezed it. “I love you.” She turned her attention to her son, then smiled up at Paul. “Thank you for helping.”
“Glad to.” Paul gazed at the baby. “He’s a fine-looking boy.” His heart stirred at the sight of mother and son, and a longing for his own son welled up inside of him. What would life have been like if he had lived?
“Do you have a name for him?” Patrick asked.
“I have been thinking on that. I think I would like to call him Theodore Patrick Warren. I had a good friend in Seattle. We worked together and he had great faith. His name was Theodore.” Her eyes moved to her father. “And your name will bring honor to my son.”
Patrick’s eyes glistened and he leaned down and kissed Lily on the cheek. “I love you. And no matter what anyone might say, you are a daughter to be proud of.” He hugged her, then quietly left the room.
After checking the baby over and making sure all was well with Lily, Paul said, “It’s time for me to get home and for you to get some rest. You stay in bed unless it’s absolutely necessary to get up, at least for a few days.” He closed his medical bag. “I’ll be back tomorrow to check on you.”
Lily nodded without looking at him. She stared at her baby, a soft smile on her lips.
Paul’s throat tightened at the sight. He longed for someone to love. He longed for Kate.
— 22 —
Kate walked into the kitchen and pulled off her work gloves. “Hi, Mom.” The mix of sweet and tangy smells wafted through the room. “It smells good in here.”
Joan lifted the lid off the canner and steam whooshed into the air. Wearing cooking mittens, she used canning tongs to lift out hot jars, then she set them on a towel on the counter.
“I love canned rhubarb.” Kate pulled off a flannel shirt she’d worn over her blouse and draped it across the back of a chair. “When I went out this morning it was cold, now I’m sweating.”
“I like that about October. Cool mornings and warm afternoons.”
“You mean hot afternoons. Poor Angel is lying in the yard under the weeping willow, panting away. Sometimes I wonder if it was wise to bring her.”
“She’ll adjust. You both will. It’s just that you’re used to the cooler weather up north.” Joan set the last jar on the counter. “And it’s not going to stay hot. I heard the temperatures could drop into the twenties tonight. I’m worried we’ll lose a lot of our apple crop.”
“Dad’s ready. He has the oil and pans all set just in case.”
“A letter came for you, from Helen. I put it on the occasional table in the living room.”
Eager for news from Alaska, Kate headed into the front room and picked up the envelope. Dropping onto the sofa, she settled back to read.
Helen had a lot to say. She talked about the annual fair in Palmer and the fun they’d had. And she gave details on a storm that blew in, dropping snow on Anchorage. The store had nearly sold out of kerosene and oil. Muriel’s husband, Terrence, had brought down a moose his first day out, and the baby was getting fat and was already rolling over. She talked about what a happy little boy he was and how much she loved being a grandmother.
Kate smiled. Helen would be the world’s best grandmother. Returning to the letter, she read about Lily and the baby. Helen was happy for a new life but was concerned for Lily and the stigma that would follow her and her son. Even though they lived out at the creek, gossip about Lily’s circumstances had been bantered about the bush and even been carried into town.
Melancholy swelled inside Kate. It was true that Lily had stumbled, but she was still a fine person and she’d be a good mother. She hated how unfair people could be—as if they’d never sinned.
She wondered how Paul felt about it all. He’d helped deliver the baby. Did he have special feelings for the infant? And what about Lily? Had the two of them grown closer? Sadness enfolded Kate. Would there ever be anyone for her? Would she ever be a mother?
She returned to the letter.
Helen and Albert planned to expand the store. Business had picked up and they needed more space. Kate wondered if they’d utilize the back room that had been her home. The idea made her a little sad.
Kate folded the letter and slid it back inside its envelope. Just as she headed for the stairs, she heard the sound of a car out front. Wondering who had stopped by, she glanced out the window. It was Richard. What was he doing here? She opened the front screen door and stepped onto the covered porch as he climbed out of his truck. Angel greeted him, her tail wagging.
He stroked her head. “Hi, girl. How you doing?”
In answer, the dog leaned against him.
Richard looked up at Kate. “Hi. I was just going by and thought I’d drop in.”
Kate pushed the envelope into her back pants pocket. “Where you heading?”
“I was on my way home from work.”
“Isn’t this a little out of your way?”
He grinned and placed a foot on the bottom step. “There’s a double feature playing in town. You want to go?”
“I’m a mess. I just got in from working all day.”
“There’s plenty of time. I can run home, clean up, and then come back.”
“I don’t know. Daddy might need me tonight. The temperature is supposed to drop, maybe into the twenties.
If it does, we’ll have to set out smudge pots.”
“We wouldn’t be late. And I doubt that it’s going to get that cold. It’s still hot.”
Richard was probably right. Her father had a tendency to be extra careful when it came to his trees. Kate wasn’t sure she wanted to go, no matter what the weather did. Swimming on a hot afternoon was one thing, but the movies felt more like a date.
“Captains Courageous is playing along with the new Shirley Temple movie, Heidi.”
“They’re both s’posed to be good.” Kate blew out a breath. “Okay. What time?”
“How about an hour?”
“All right.”
Richard glanced at his watch. “I’ll be back at five. Maybe we can get some dinner afterward?”
“Okay. See you in an hour.”
Kate was putting on lipstick when she heard a car pull up. She went to the window and looked down at the yard. Richard climbed out of his pickup. Her father met him at the end of the yard and they talked. Maybe he’d convince Richard to stay and help in case of bad weather. But while Kate watched, her dad clapped the young man on the shoulder and then headed for the barn. Richard walked up the yard toward the porch.
Kate took a last look in the mirror, ran a brush through her bobbed hair, and then headed downstairs with Angel at her side. When she made her way down the stairs, Richard was visiting with her mother in the front room.
“You’re just on time,” she said.
He looked at her and she could see admiration in his eyes. She wished she hadn’t accepted his invitation. He might get the wrong idea.
“Kate, you look lovely.” Her mother folded her arms across her waist and studied her. “Richard said you two are going to the movies.”
Trying to sound nonchalant, Kate said, “There are a couple of good ones playing, so we thought why not.” She smiled at Richard, hoping she wouldn’t see any expectations in his eyes. Thankfully she saw only fun.
“Ready?” he asked.
“All set.” Kate grabbed a sweater out of a closet near the front entry. “We won’t be late,” she told her mother and walked to the door. Angel followed. Kate stroked the dog. “Sorry, girl, not this time.”