The Midwife

by Carolyn Davidson

  His voice rumbled against her ear. “Eric knows what he is doing, Leah. Do you think he has claimed his daughter, only to lose her so soon?”

  “Mr. Taylor has money and influence also, Gar. And it is still only my word against his wife’s.”

  “Ah, but you are the one telling the truth, and that is what will make the difference.” His mouth touched her forehead, his head bending low, and she felt encompassed by his strength and the tenderness of his touch.

  A surge of hope lightened her mood and she tilted her head, offering her lips for his taking. “Kiss me properly, Mr. Lundstrom.” Her words teased him, and she met his smile with her own.

  “Improperly is more like it, wife.” He hesitated, then dropped a quick peck on her mouth and drew back. “I hear Karen clamoring for attention. Is she going with us?”

  Leah nodded. “I don’t want to ask Ruth to watch her again so soon.”

  He nodded his agreement. “Benny will keep Kristofer here for us. Do you have dinner started?”

  Leah motioned at the oven. “I just put two chickens in to roast. Ruth will have to come and finish up.”

  “I think she is coming now,” Gar said, bending his head to look out the door. “Go get the baby, and I’ll tell Ruth what to do.”

  But Ruth would not hear of it, and with her usual competence, she took command, and Leah was left empty-handed in the buggy. From the doorway, Karen was held high in the woman’s arms to wave goodbye.

  “I don’t know what we’d do without her,” Leah said, looking back until the hood of the buggy hid the baby from sight.

  “Ruth cares for you, and she loves the children,” Gar said, reaching to take Leah’s hand. “She thought you had enough on your plate this morning without tending to the baby, too. Now,” he said, squeezing her fingers, “tell me, what do you think of your new mare?”

  “My new mare?” She smiled at his attempt to distract her thoughts.

  “Yah, the one you rode yesterday. Do you like her?”

  “She’s mine?” He was serious. “You’re not going to sell her?”

  Gar shook his head. “Not if you promise to ride her at least once a week and take good care of her.”

  “Can we afford not to sell her? I don’t want to take from your income, Gar. But,” she hastened to add, “I haven’t enjoyed anything so much in a long time, as I did the ride we took yesterday.”

  “Was it the ride you enjoyed or the swimming lesson?” he asked with a teasing glance.

  She felt a flush paint her cheeks, and she wiggled her fingers within his grip. “I think you enjoy poking fun at me.”

  His grin widened and he chuckled aloud. “There is that, too, sweetheart.”

  Her eyes widened as she caught his meaning and her free hand reached to swat at his shoulder. And then their eyes met and within the pale blue depths, she saw a deep welling of love emerge. It enveloped her, filling her with a sense of well-being she could barely contain.

  “No matter what happens,” she said softly, “I want you to know that you have given me happiness beyond my fondest hopes, Garlan Lundstrom.” Her head pressed against his shoulder and his arm slipped behind her to circle her waist, enclosing her in the bittersweet silence of her thoughts.

  The meeting was to be in the big house at the far end of town, according to Morgan Anderson. The sheriff rode his horse beside the Lundstroms’ buggy, and Eric Magnor’s stable man took charge with ease as the late arrivals joined the group already assembled.

  Sarah Perkins opened the door as they climbed the front steps, her smile welcoming Leah. “Mr. Magnor is waiting in the parlor,” she said formally.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Perkins,” Leah answered, her own smile trembling as she walked past the housekeeper toward the wide parlor doors. They opened as she approached, and Eric greeted her, both hands extended.

  She could only offer her own, and was pleased by the warmth he lent to her chilly fingers. He smiled at her, a reassuring tilt of his lips that strengthened her own feeble attempt.

  “Come in, Leah. You too, Garlan, and Sheriff Anderson. I’m not sure you know this gentleman, Leah,” Eric said, leading her to a spare, well-dressed figure next to the fireplace. “Tobias Dunbar owns the newspaper, and hides in his office more often than not.” The words were laced with humor and the newspaperman bowed his head, nodding his agreement.

  “I fear Mr. Magnor is right. My hands are forever stained with ink and my shirts blackened with newsprint. My wife has given up on keeping them clean.”

  “Tobias is brother to Hobart Dunbar, Leah,” Gar put in.

  Leah offered a nod. “I am pleased to meet you, sir.” Although what the man had to offer to this meeting was quite beyond her comprehension. Still Eric did nothing without a reason, of that she was certain.

  He was in a good humor, she thought, and that in itself was enough to encourage her. Gar and the newspaperman were involved in a discussion regarding the new school to be built at the edge of town, and Leah lent her full regard to Eric.

  “What is happening today, Mr. Magnor? Why did you send for me?” He still had a grip on her hand and it only increased as he frowned at her words.

  “Leah, Leah. When will you bring yourself to forget this Mr. Magnor you seem determined to use when you speak to me? Can you say the word, father? Or is it too foreign to your tongue?”

  “I’ve never called anyone by that name,” she said haltingly. “But, I’d like to try…Father.”

  His eyes glistened, and he blinked, turning his head away for a moment, then cleared his throat. “I thank you for that, my daughter. It is something I have long waited to hear from your lips.” He smiled fully then, his gaze fixed on her face. “You called me Papa when you were a baby, but I suppose you are too old for that.”

  “Leah?” Gar called her name and she responded quickly, turning to him as he nodded his head at the doorway, then strode to her side.

  “Ah…my visitor has joined us,” Eric said, striding from Leah’s side to offer his hand to the man who waited just inside the wide parlor doors. “My lawyer’s trip to Chicago was successful, Leah. Mr. Waterford, come in and greet my daughter, will you?”

  A distinguished-looking gentleman entered, nodded a greeting at the men assembled there, then concentrated his attention on Leah. “You are Leah Gunderson?” he asked. “I represent Sylvester Taylor.”

  She had been caught in a trap of some sort. Leah felt the floor roll beneath her feet, saw flashes of light where none had been only seconds past, and in a daze, felt Gar’s hands on her waist as he drew her to sit in a chair.

  “That was badly done, Magnor,” Gar said bluntly, an edge of anger tinging his words.

  “Don’t jump to conclusions, Garlan,” Eric said quickly. “Leah will understand in just a moment.”

  Eric turned to the visitor. “Let’s not drag this out. Please take a chair and explain to Leah why you are here.”

  Choosing a chair directly across from Leah, the gentleman met her gaze. “My client has asked me to bring you a letter and to personally extend his apologies to you for the problems he has caused.”

  “Your client? Mr. Taylor sent that to me?” Leah eyed the envelope Mr. Waterford extended in her direction as if it were a venomous snake.

  Gar took it from Mr. Waterford’s hand and opened it quickly. “May I read it to you, Leah?”

  She nodded, aware that she could not have held the paper in her limp hands if she tried.

  Gar began, a snort of disbelief marring the simple elegance of the greeting.

  My dear lady,

  My apologies cannot suffice for the problems I have caused you over the past weeks. I fear that I was swayed by the love I felt for my wife, a love that was sadly misplaced.

  I have found that you were innocent of any wrongdoing on that night over four years ago. I should have recognized the truth then, but my grief overcame my good sense, I fear.

  When I sent out in search of you earlier this year, it was at the insistence o
f my wife, Mabelle, who had become with child once more. She blamed you for the state of her nervous condition and I sought to pacify her.

  However, when my lawyer contacted the physician who delivered her first infant, he found him to be reluctant to speak of that occasion, until it was explained that our second child had also died at birth, and that Mabelle was once again in the family way. At that time, the doctor signed an affidavit, swearing that he had suspected her of suffocating the infant he delivered, and was greatly concerned over her mental state.

  Not wanting a repeat of such a sad occasion to mar his records, he then refused to attend her second delivery. Thus I sought out your services. It was his recommendation that I cease any pursuit of you, and concentrate instead on my wife’s mental condition.

  Mrs. Taylor has become totally overwrought by a state of nerves that caused a hysterical outbreak. She has since been committed to an institution here in Chicago, and is under constant watch, since she is threatening the life of the child she carries.

  Although you behaved in a competent manner, and performed your services well, I can only blame my grief at my child’s death for my treatment of you that night. I beg your forgiveness for the trouble I have caused, and ask your tolerance for my wife’s state of mind.

  Gar crumpled the letter in his hand, his oath loud in the silence that followed the reading of Sylvester Taylor’s missive.

  “Such a coward this man is! Why didn’t he come himself and admit his wrongdoing to Leah? Instead he sends a messenger. At least he had the sense to keep his private detective in Chicago where he belongs.”

  Leah felt born anew and drew a deep breath, allowing only a small sound to escape her lips, when the urge to cry aloud was almost beyond her control. “It’s all right, Gar. Cowardly or not, he told the truth, and that’s what counts.

  “I knew I had delivered a live boy to Mabelle Taylor that night. I knew he was healthy when I left the room. But the woman refused to touch the boy, and I feared she would not be a good mother.”

  Mr. Waterford nodded. “The woman is mad. Sylvester is beside himself.”

  “This is where Tobias comes in,” Eric said, stepping forward to stand before Leah. “We have heard the letter and Mr. Waterford has told me all the facts. Now we will set about vindicating you in the eyes of the people here, Leah.”

  “Tobias? Mr. Dunbar will do that? What do you expect of him?” Leah asked.

  “He runs the newspaper, Leah. He has influence, and an audience neither you nor I can match. He has agreed to run a front-page article that will clear your name and put to rest the gossip in town.”

  Leah was silent, considering the offer. “I don’t know that I want to dredge it all up again.” Her gaze sought Gar, and he moved from behind her chair to bend one knee to the floor before her.

  His hands gripped hers and his lips curved with encouragement. “You must do as you see fit, sweetheart. Mr. Taylor has cleared you. Mr. Waterford is willing to swear to the truth of the matter. Now Tobias has offered to let the whole town know how it has come about, so you can be free.”

  “I’m really cleared of the charges?” Leah looked this time to the sheriff, and Morgan Anderson nodded emphatically.

  “You betcha, ma’am. And for what it’s worth, I’d take old Toby up on the offer. Clear the slate and start fresh.”

  “All right.”

  The room was silent for a moment, and then Eric slid his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “All right? Just like that?”

  Leah nodded. “If it’s the thing to do, then we’ll do it. I need to get home and take care of my family and put this whole thing behind me.” Her eyes met Gar’s and she smiled widely, even though her lips quivered with the effort.

  Tobias smoothed the brim of his hat and held it before him, his grin eager. “I’ll need to have all the facts in order. This will be the biggest story of the year, doing an exposé on a big-city crime. Begging your pardon, sir,” he added, nodding at Mr. Waterford.

  The lawyer rose from his chair. “I’ll do whatever I can to mend Mrs. Gunderson’s reputation.”

  “Leah is Mrs. Lundstrom now,” Eric said.

  “I suppose I was not aware of that fact, sir,” Mr. Waterford said.

  “It has only recently come about,” Eric answered.

  Tobias appeared anxious to take his leave, shaking hands with Eric, as he escorted the lawyer to the door. His face was beaming as Gar handed him the crumpled letter, and his fingers carefully began smoothing the wrinkles from it. Probably pleased as punch as he considered the story he would be setting into print before the day was over, Leah thought.

  As she would be when Brian Havelock’s efforts to mar her good name were proved to be small potatoes.

  “We must go home,” Gar said, his fingers touching Leah’s shoulder.

  “Yes.” She watched as the gentlemen left the room, Eric escorting his guests to the door. And then he returned and held out his arms in Leah’s direction.

  “Will you allow me to hug my daughter, Gar?” he asked.

  With a nudge of his fingers, Gar gave his assent and Leah’s feet fairly flew as she crossed the room. Her arms wrapped firmly about Eric’s neck, and her face was buried against his shoulder.

  “Thank you, Father. Thank you, Papa.”

  She lifted her head and touched her lips to his cheek, her mouth dampened by the glistening trail of tears he made no attempt to conceal.

  “No, I actually did little, daughter. Circumstances worked out as they did without much effort on my part at the end.” He cleared his throat, as if emotion surged within him. “I must thank you, Leah. For allowing me into your life. For forgiving my stiff-necked pride in waiting so long to make my peace with you. For giving me a fine son-in-law.”

  He looked at Gar over her shoulder. “Will we be friends, Lundstrom?”

  Gar joined them and Leah stepped back, allowing him into the circle. “I have admired you for a long time, Eric. Now, it seems I must have you as part of my family. I suppose you will even want to be a grandfather to our children.”

  “Are there to be more than just the two?” Eric asked hopefully, his eyes falling to Leah’s slender waist.

  “One of these days, I hope,” Gar answered.

  “I wouldn’t be a bit surprised,” Leah said softly.

  Two pair of masculine eyes met, bewilderment clashing with hope as Leah bit at her bottom lip and waited for their reaction.

  “Are you telling us something, Leah?” Gar asked. His hands gripped her forearms and he turned her to face him.

  “It cannot be,” Eric put in. “Just look at her. Slim as a reed.”

  “I am looking.” And he was, his gaze scanning her from head to toe, as if he searched out evidence that would be solid proof of her enigmatic claim.

  “What do you mean, Leah? Are you in the family way? Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “As sure as I can be, for now.” Her gaze moved from one to the other of these men who had so rapidly become important in her life. Eric, her father, the man who had used his influence to clear her name, no matter the cost. And then Gar…husband and champion, so eager to defend her, so ready to give her all a woman could want in life.

  “I’m so fortunate to have both of you,” she whispered, looking from one to the other, as if her eyes could not take in the riches she beheld. “I can’t believe that just a few months ago, I didn’t know about any of this. I didn’t know how happy I could be.”

  “Maybe she’d better sit down,” Eric said over her head, seeking Gar’s opinion.

  “Yah, she’s had quite a morning. She should probably put her feet up and rest awhile.”

  With one man on either side, Leah was led back to the sofa and settled with a footstool beneath her feet. In moments, Sarah Perkins had placed a cup of tea in her hands and was coaxing her with an assortment of muffins, fresh from the oven.

  “If I’d known how lovely it would be to be pampered, I’d have told you about the bab
y yesterday, Gar,” she said between bites.

  “You knew yesterday?” She watched as his features took on a look of concentration, following his thoughts as he remembered the day just past, when they had spent the afternoon at the stream.

  He frowned at her. “Maybe swimming was not a good idea.”

  “You went swimming?” Eric asked, his eyes lighting as he watched a flush climb Gar’s cheeks.

  “Yah, and she rode horseback, too.”

  “I’m healthy,” Leah said sharply. “Being in the family way is not a disease, gentlemen.”

  Eric approached the sofa, then settled beside his daughter. “I can’t tell you how happy you’ve made me, Leah. When I look at you, I can see the best of your mother shining from your eyes. You’re not as sharptongued as she was—”

  Gar hooted, almost choking on the mouthful of tea he had just sipped from his cup. “Just you wait, Eric Magnor, till you hear her in action.”

  “No, Leah is softer than Minna, more womanly perhaps. And yet, in some ways, in her looks, I think, she is much like her mother. She has the same honey-streaked hair, and her eyes are blue like the cornflowers in the spring.”

  Gar nodded his agreement. “Yah, she is womanly. And her hair is pretty enough.”

  Leah plopped her cup on the table beside her. “Well, if the two of you are done with dissecting me, I’m ready to call a halt to the pampering and head for home.”

  Eric laughed, the sound joyous, and Gar’s chuckle blended in. “She is persnickety, this woman of mine,” Gar said. “First she wants to be spoiled, then she tires of it. There is no pleasing her.”

  “I trust you with the job, nevertheless,” Eric told him, his hand extended.

  Gar met it with his own, and Leah watched as the two men shook solemnly, their faces working with emotion. “Go on with you now,” Eric said after a moment. “I have work to do at the mill sometime today. Now that my personal affairs are in order, I can get back to business.”