The Midwife

by Carolyn Davidson

  The buggy swept through town, curious eyes watching as Leah was drawn closely to her husband’s side.

  “By our next trip in, they will all know everything about me,” she said. “I’m not sure I like the idea of my life being spread out on the front page.”

  “It will be well. And in another month or two, you’ll be the talk of the town again, when you walk into the store with your dress too tight to fasten around your waist.”

  “My dresses have wide seams, Mr. Lundstrom, and I intend to let them out right away. I can wear a coat when I go to town, once the weather is colder. No one needs to know until it’s time for the baby to come.”

  He was silent, and she looked up at him. “You’re frowning. Don’t you like my idea?”

  He shook his head. “No, I can’t say that I do. I think I want everyone to know. Right away, in fact. Maybe I’ll just lean out of the buggy and tell people as we go.”

  Leah watched in horror as he tipped his hat to Lula Dunbar, who stood before the hotel doors, and her hand rose to cover his mouth.

  “Don’t you dare!”

  He chuckled against her palm, and Leah nodded, smiling at Lula as the woman gaped at the couple who frolicked so foolishly right in the middle of main street.

  “I was only going to wish the lady a good day,” Gar said when Leah moved her hand.

  She looked at him, doubt alive in her glance. “I somehow don’t trust you, Mr. Lundstrom. You are not acting like yourself today.”

  “And is that so bad? That I should begin to be giddy in my old age?”

  “How giddy are you planning on being?”

  His eyes lit, and his mouth twitched with a mischievous grin. “I will let you know later on, wife. I have the rest of the day to plan for our celebration.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  I have asked Ruth to come and help you a few days a week.” Gar made his announcement in his usual fashion, as a fact already in place.

  Leah held her tongue, aware that he was ready for an argument from her. She was wrapped in his arms, resting against his warmth. Her nightgown was still on the floor where he had tossed it earlier, and she was contemplating sleeping without it.

  “Do you think I need help?” she asked finally, conscious of his tension as he awaited her reply.

  “Yah, you work too hard.”

  “Not any harder than any other farm wife,” she said firmly.

  “Well, I see you sewing at night, when you should be finished with your work for the day. And you’ve been looking tired in the afternoon lately.” He caught his breath and rose above her, turning her to her back.

  “Is that because of the baby? Are you feeling bad already? Are you sick in the mornings, and do not tell me?” His voice was beyond anxious, she thought. He was worried, and she would not have it be so.

  Her fingers pressed against his lips and she shook her head. “No, I’m fine, honestly. I haven’t gotten sick at all, and I think it’s the usual thing to be sleepy sometimes.”

  In the pale moonlight his face was drawn, his brow furrowed, a reminder to her of his worried look when first they had met. “I don’t want you to overdo, like Hulda did,” he said softly. “I fear for you, Leah. I could not bear to lose you.”

  Her hand slid to the back of his head, and the silken strands of gold covered her fingers. “I will not die. I am young and healthy.”

  “And that’s another thing. You are thirty years old. Is that beyond the age to be bearing a first child? Should we go to Minneapolis to see a doctor and make sure you are all right?”

  “I am sure,” she told him, pulling his head to her, touching his lips in a tender joining of flesh. “I will have Ruth to help me if it’ll make you feel better. And if I think there are any problems, I’ll go to see a doctor. I want this baby probably more than you do, Gar. I want to give you a child.”

  “This is important to women, isn’t it? This bearing a child.”

  “I have brought more babies into the world than you know. And each of them is a miracle, especially Karen, who struggled so hard to be born.”

  “I can only remember the blood and the terrible pain that Hulda went through,” Gar said, bending his head to rest on her breast.

  Her fingers remained tangled in his hair and she held him firmly in place. He would be secure only when the baby had arrived, when he had watched a child born without the agony of death to ruin the joy.

  “Watch and see,” she whispered, her fingers caressing his head. “Everything will be fine.”

  The year had been a good one, the wheat harvest being the talk of the town, and the final cutting of hay was in the barn. The last of autumn’s color rustled underfoot before October was over, and the sky wore the gray of early winter.

  As if a signal had been given by the powers that be, a wind from the north had brought a heavy frost during the night, and Gar stomped his feet at the door before coming into the kitchen.

  “It looks like snow on my boots,” he said, rubbing his hands together for warmth. “I’ll be surprised if we don’t get a good covering before the week is over, maybe today even. It is November, after all.”

  “Well, I’m glad you left your mess outside where it belongs,” Leah told him, turning from the stove.

  His grin was wide. “Yah, I learned my lesson good, wife.” He wiped the soles again on the rug and then approached her. His hand covered the front of her apron, cupping the slight weight of her pregnancy, and his mouth nuzzled at the curve of her neck.

  “How is my little one this morning?”

  “Me?” she teased with a lifted brow. “Or the baby?” She turned her head, and his mouth brushed her cheek, his whisper for her ears alone.

  “I know how you are, sweetheart. I found out all your secrets just an hour ago. It is the baby I ask after.”

  Her eyes closed and she leaned back against his solid frame. “Will I ever stop this blushing when you say such things to me?”

  He wrapped both arms around her, his hands meeting beneath the curve of her belly. “I hope not. It is a part of you I love, this womanly thing you do.”

  “Gar? When we go to town, how will I buy flannel from the store without someone knowing what I need it for?”

  “You’re not ready yet to tell the ladies? I am surprised you can keep a secret so well.”

  “I won’t be able to much longer. I’m bigger already than I thought I would be. And I haven’t even felt life yet.”

  “Life? When the baby moves?”

  She nodded. “It should be soon, within a few weeks anyway. Maybe I’ll be ready to tell my news then.”

  “Do you fear for the child, that you hesitate to speak of it with the ladies?”

  She dropped her stirring spoon on the edge of the stove and turned in his arms, framing his face with her palms. “I have no fear for the baby, Gar. And yet, it’s almost as if it’s too good to be true, that I should be carrying a child. Maybe I’m afraid to speak of it until it moves inside of me and I can feel it.”

  He turned his face against her hand until his mouth touched the center of her palm. His lips brushed the sensitive flesh there and he closed his eyes, whispering his fear.

  “I will not rest easy until the babe is in my hands, and I see you are well. I live with a dread in my soul, sweetheart, that something will happen to you.”

  She ached for his need, her heart yearning to comfort him but knowing her words would only fall on arid ground. What Gar needed, she could not provide, not yet anyway. Only when her own time had come would he realize the beauty of childbirth and the joy of pain that accomplishes a purpose.

  “When the baby moves, perhaps then you will believe, Gar. When you see that I am healthy, even if I sleep sometimes when Karen naps. For now, I can only tell you that in all the babies I have seen born, Karen’s birth was the most difficult.”

  “Be patient, my wife. Just love me and understand that I am a mere man.” His attempt at humor brought a smile to her lips and she turned his face t
oward her.

  “You did not seem so this morning, barely an hour ago,” she said, repeating his words.

  “I did not hurt you? I was not too hasty?” He sought reassurance and she gave it willingly.

  “You have never hurt me, Gar. Not even the first time when you were more than hasty.” Her smile was teasing, her words languid. “You are always what I need.”

  His body relaxed and she felt it mold more closely to hers as he grinned his pleasure at her words.

  “Will we go to town then this morning? Perhaps, before we get there, you can think of a need for the flannel that does not involve diapers and baby things.”

  She shrugged. “If they begin to wonder, I won’t mind I suppose. It’s been awhile since we gave the town anything to talk about.”

  “Was the newspaper article so painful for you?”

  She thought about the great to-do that had followed Tobias Dunbar’s front-page rebuttal of the charges brought against her. He had quoted Sylvester Taylor’s letter, the lawyer’s statement, and even parts of the doctor’s statement regarding Mabelle’s babies and the deaths they suffered.

  All in all, Leah had come out smelling like a rose, and the chilly atmosphere surrounding her presence had melted like the first snowfall when the sun comes out. She was once more the obvious favorite of the ladies in town, only Eva Landers, Mrs. Thorwald and Bonnie Nielsen never wavering in their high regard of her.

  “Folks are fickle creatures, Gar. They listen to gossip and tut-tut over the offender, and then when the truth is presented, they flow in the other direction. It is a rare person who can be a true friend even when things look bad.”

  “You saved the newspaper. I saw it on the closet shelf, Leah.”

  She nodded. “I thought I might need to get it out once in a while and read all the wonderful things Tobias wrote about me.”

  “I will tell you all the wonderful things you need to hear, sweetheart.” He bent to kiss her and then peered over her shoulder at the stove. “I think the oatmeal is making bigger bubbles than it should. Do you suppose it is done?”

  She pushed at his chest. “If you want breakfast before we get to town, you’d better go sit down at the table. And call Kristofer down from his room.”

  “Is Karen awake yet?” he asked, turning to the sink to wash his hands. “Should I go and get her?”

  “No, just eat first and I’ll tend to her. I want to leave early for town. I think you may be right. It looks like snow clouds coming in from the west.”

  “How many yards do you want, Leah?” Bonnie’s eyes were shining with curiosity as she wielded her shears, cutting the brown paper that wrapped the bolt of cream-colored outing flannel.

  “I think twenty will be fine,” Leah told her, busying herself with cards of buttons and spools of thread.

  “What will you do with so much?” Bonnie asked, unrolling the soft fabric on the counter, then measuring it against a yardstick nailed to the edge.

  “I have a lot of sewing to do,” Leah said, smiling vaguely as she sorted out several cards of tiny pearl buttons.

  “Seven…eight…I suppose Karen has outgrown all of her gowns. Nine…ten…” Bonnie counted beneath her breath as she measured, and Leah nodded her agreement.

  Already her mind could envision small sacques and kimonos, and a pile of diapers, neatly hemmed.

  “Will you need more later on? Perhaps some in colors? We are getting in a new shipment in a couple of weeks.” Bonnie’s queries were gathering interested looks from others in the store and Leah shrugged, hoping to avert questions she didn’t want to answer.

  “Maybe so, Bonnie. How about blue, for Kristofer’s nightshirts?” And for gowns for the boy she fervently hoped even now was cradled within her body.

  “Flannel, Leah?” Eva’s voice was a whisper in her ear, and she turned her head to face her friend.

  “I’d think you had more to worry about than my shopping list, Eva.”

  “You are all shiny around the edges, my friend. You may fool Bonnie, but I know the look you wear.”

  Leah’s eyes filled and she felt tears balance precariously on her lashes then fall to her cheeks. “Does it really show?”

  Eva’s gaze scanned the length of Leah’s coat. “Not so’s you could notice, but I’ll bet if you unbuttoned that thing, I’d have plenty to look at.”

  “I didn’t want to tell yet,” Leah whispered.

  Eva hugged her briefly, whispering in her ear. “Then don’t. No one needs to know. But I’m happy for you, Leah. Gar is a good man, and a baby of your own is just what you need.”

  Bonnie cleared her throat, her arms stretched wide to fold the voluminous length of flannel. “Will this be all, Leah? Do you want those buttons you set aside?”

  “Yes.” Leah turned back to the counter. “That and the list of groceries I gave you will do for today.”

  From the front of the store, a bell rang as Gar pushed the door open. “Leah, it is snowing hard already. We need to load the wagon and head for home.”

  His arms full with Karen, he headed for his wife, transferring the baby to her as he picked up bundles from the counter. “I’ll come back for the rest of it,” he told Bonnie, and then ushered Leah to the door.

  It was snowing in earnest. She brushed it from the wagon seat and climbed up hurriedly, opening her coat to wrap its warmth around Karen during the ride home, watching as Gar came from the store with the rest of her groceries. Once beside her, he picked up the reins, flicking them in the air. The wagon lurched into motion as the team bent into their traces and set off for home.

  “Did Bonnie pick and poke at you when you bought your flannel?” Gar asked with a grin. “I’ll bet you didn’t get away with it, did you?”

  Leah smiled smugly. “She thought it was for new sleeping gowns for Karen and I let her think so. But Eva knew. She said I was shiny around the edges, Gar. What do you suppose she meant?”

  “You look like a happy woman, sweetheart. And your skin glows like there is a light inside of you shining through.” He reached to tug her scarf over the front of her head, brushing the snow from her hair. “You are so pretty, with your bright blue eyes and that little straight nose of yours.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” she told him, sliding closer to him. Karen babbled, groping with one hand to snatch at the snow flakes that fell in profusion. She lifted her fist to her mouth to lick at the white crystals and laughed with delight.

  “Her first snow,” Gar said, enjoying his daughter’s pleasure. His heart was warmed by the sight of Leah with his daughter. Even more so, it brought him joy to know that beneath the bulky coat, another child of his loins was sheltered from the storm, and Leah was more than able to love all of his children.

  “We must hurry, Leah. Hold tight to the baby.” So saying, he urged the team into a fast trot. The wagon lurched through the ruts in the road, heading into the increasingly heavy snowfall.

  They had come within a mile of the long lane that led to the farmhouse when Gar muttered beneath his breath and pointed ahead, toward the side of the road.

  “What is it?” Leah leaned forward, the better to see, barely able to make out a wagon. It was pulled onto the grass, with a huddled figure on the seat.

  Gar drew his team to a halt in the road and slid down quickly, his long strides carrying him to where the snow-covered woman sat. “Are you all right? Are you alone here?”

  She lifted her head, a dazed expression on her features. “My husband has gone on ahead, trying to find help, sir. The harness has broken, and he rode the horse.”

  Gar’s words were impatient as he reached up to help the woman down from the high seat. “Why didn’t he take you along with him? This is no place for you to be, all alone, and in the snow yet.”

  And then he halted, aware for the first time that the bulky coat the woman wore could not conceal the size of her abdomen. “You are going to have a child,” he said, surprise coating his words. “Will it be soon?” His hands were gentle
as he lifted her down, then held her before him as she winced and bent over.

  “Very soon, I fear. Stephen wanted me to ride on the back of the horse with him, but I couldn’t. I told him I’d be all right.” She looked up apologetically. “I didn’t let him know I was having pains already.”

  He led her carefully toward his wagon, pausing by the front wheel to look up at his wife. “Leah, shall I put this young lady in the back, or will she be all right on the seat with us? She is about to have a child, I think.”

  Leah turned toward the back, scrambling over the seat into the wagon bed, Karen clutched to her bosom. “Bring her back here, Gar. She may be better off where she can lean on the side boards.” He did as he was told, more than willing to turn the responsibility over to Leah’s capable hands.

  Already the sweat was gathering on his back as he considered what the next hours might bring. Leah might need his help, and he shuddered at the picture his mind brought forth. Perhaps he would be in luck and Ruth could give a hand, and he could heat water and make tea and stay in the kitchen.

  That thought cheered him.

  The Warshems’ house was dark, and Gar barely slowed the team as they passed the driveway. “It looks like Ruth is not home,” he said over his shoulder.

  “No,” Leah answered. “She’s gone to her sister’s place to help out with the new baby.”

  “I’d hoped she could help out with this new baby,” Gar muttered, slapping the reins against the broad backs of his team.

  “We’ll do just fine,” Leah said soothingly, her voice taking on a new sound, as if she spoke a language only she and the young woman she tended could understand. As if she were readying herself for the task to come.

  Just ahead was the lane and Gar turned the horses carefully, lest the wagon slide on the wet snow and land in the ditch. The lights from the barn shone like a beacon through the heavy snowfall, and he welcomed the signs of life there. Benny stood before the big doors, watching as the wagon drew up.