St. John, Cheryl

by Prairie Wife

  "Is that for me?"

  "No." She read the doctor's nearly indecipherable directions and remembered giving doses of the drug to her mother for pain during the last weeks of her life. "It's for him."

  Rachel groaned and gripped the sheet with white-knuckled fingers.

  "I'll be right back." Amy hurried out. With furtive movements, she uncapped the bottle and poured the entire contents into the cooking food, then recapped it and dropped it under the back stove lid, into the fire. With a wooden spoon, she stirred and scooped the meal onto the metal plate.

  It steamed and smelled not half bad as she carried it toward George. She'd even poured him a cup of water so he'd think she was behaving herself. "Here. I'm going back in with her now. The baby's coming."

  He eyeballed her and the plate and grabbed it with his left hand, studying the contents. For a horrible moment she thought he suspected, and she prepared for his anger. Her pulse battered her eardrums.

  "That's what you said an hour ago."

  She bit her tongue and forced herself to relax and walk unhurriedly while she got water and towels and returned to the bedroom.

  Rachel was laboring in earnest now, trying to turn on her side and curl up to avoid the pain.

  Amy washed her hands and took time to bath Rachel's face with cool water.

  Time seemed to stretch endlessly. Birth was something a woman did all on her own, no matter how many people attended her, and Amy could only lend support and encouragement.

  "Jack should be here."

  "I know. He'll be here soon." She prayed that was true.

  Another half hour passed and Amy crept to the bedroom doorway to peer out at George. He still attended his post at the window, but he was leaning heavily against the wall and he kept jerking the gun back up as though he was dozing.

  Amy checked the baby's progress and placed Rachel's hands on the rungs of the metal headboard. "Hang on here. You have to push now."

  "I don't think I can."

  "You don't have any choice. I'll tell you when." She placed her hand on Rachel's belly and waited for the next pain to make the muscles taut. "Now."

  Rachel gripped the metal rungs and pushed.

  The baby's head barely moved.

  "Do it just like that in another minute. Rest right now."

  Eternity passed as they waited for another contraction. Rachel pushed again and made a little progress.

  "Amy, is this normal?"

  She assured her it was. "Rest in between."

  A loud thud came from the other room.

  "I'm going to go check on him." Amy tiptoed to the doorway and peered out.

  George lay sprawled on the floor, the gun having skidded three feet from his open hand.

  Chapter Eleven

  Bolstering her courage, she dashed across the littered floor to where he lay and grabbed the revolver. He didn't move. Had she killed him?

  A shrill scream came from the bedroom.

  Torn over what to do first, Amy ran to the front door and flung it open. She heaved the gun as far as she could throw and it hit the dirt, sending up a plume of dust. "Come get him! I think I've killed him!"

  Jesse stood up from his hiding place behind the wagon. "Run out here now! Where's Rachel?"

  "I have to go back to her." She turned and dashed back inside, leaving the door agape.

  She heard Jesse at her heels. "Are you both all right?"

  "We're fine. He's over there." She pointed to the body.

  "I didn't hear a shot."

  "I didn't shoot him. I drugged him." She slammed the bedroom door closed behind her to afford Rachel privacy.

  The young woman's face was contorted with pain. She made a sound between a scream and a growl that raised the hair on Amy's arms. Amy checked and found the baby's head crowning. Terror washed over her in a nearly paralyzing wave. More frightening than being kidnapped, more terrifying than nearly being murdered was the thought of letting something happen to Rachel's baby.

  Amy wrestled with inadequacy and dread, then found courage somewhere deep inside her and coaxed Rachel to hold on just a little longer. The baby's head was nearly out now and Amy didn't have time to panic. Duty took over.

  "You're doing great. Stop for a breath now."

  The door opened and Jack rushed in and fell to the other side of the bed beside his wife. "What's happening? Is she hurt?"

  "Far as I can tell, everything is the way it should be."

  Rachel released her hold on the headboard to reach for her husband. Jack put his arm around her shoulder and she rested her head against him to cry.

  "Prop her shoulders up and help her this time."

  Jack did as instructed. After a few more pushes, the Douglases' baby struggled its way into the world.

  After cutting the cord, Amy wrapped the squalling infant in a towel and washed her. "You have a girl." Placing her in a clean folded sheet, she handed the baby to Jack. "We have to finish up here."

  Several minutes later, Rachel held her baby and Jack sat beside her. Until now Amy had handled each moment as it came, not allowing emotions to get in the way of her judgment or their safety. But studying the new family, emotion welled up inside Amy and threatened to spill out.

  She efficiently tied soiled linens and towels in a bundle and carried them out, leaving the Douglases alone. She leaned back against the wall and caught her breath, fighting down the overwhelming feelings that threatened to overtake her.

  Seeing the baby Rachel held and the way the couple sat with their heads together gazing down at her, widened the crack in the armor around Amy's heart. Now she felt like crying.

  Underlying intense feelings of relief and fear was guilt-provoking envy, suffocating need and loss so severe she could barely breathe.

  Jesse and Sam looked up with stricken faces. Jesse walked toward her.

  "Is she okay? Are you?"

  Amy took a moment to regain her composure. She glanced down at her bloodstained apron and added it to the pile of laundry. "She's fine. I'm—" She glanced from her husband to her father, recognizing the distress and worry etched on their faces. Another thought struck her with sick uncertainty. "Am I a murderer?"

  Jesse lunged forward and pulled her against the warmth and strength of his chest. He felt so good, and she felt so safe in his arms. Tears stung her eyes and she buried her face, gripping the open sides of his wool jacket with both hands. His voice rumbled against her forehead.

  "No, he's not dead. But he's out cold. What did you give him?"

  Relieved, she retained her place of comfort in his embrace and raised her head to look at her father. "I found that bottle of medicine we used to give Mama. I poured the rest of it into his food."

  Sam stepped toward them and Amy moved to give him a hug. "That was mighty quick thinkin', daughter."

  Then she returned to Jesse's embrace, and he held her protectively against his side.

  She gave Sam a weary smile and glanced around at the shambles of his home. "Sorry about your house, Daddy."

  He nudged a tin funnel with the toe of his boot. "Place needed sprucin' up a bit anyhow." His gaze rose to hers. "If you'd have been hurt, it woulda been my fault. I brought that appallin' woman here."

  "I won't tell you again, it's not your fault." She remembered George Gray's motive. "Did you see the jewelry?"

  Jesse pulled the velvet pouch from his pocket. "Must be worth a fortune."

  He opened the bag to show her the gems.

  Amy picked up an earring and held it so the facets glittered in the late afternoon light. "Where would somebody wear a thing this fancy?"

  Jesse held the other one up to her lobe. "On her ear."

  She smiled at his teasing reply and put the one she held back in his palm. "What's going to happen now?"

  "Deezer, Pitch and Hermie are seein' that Gray gets locked up in Liscom's root cellar behind the mercantile until the marshal arrives. They'll send a wire to that Price fellow while they're there. I'll lock these up 'til some
one comes for them."

  "How did you know to come out here to look for us?"

  "Deezer saw the broken jars inside the door." Jesse dropped the gems back in the bag, drew it shut and tucked it inside his jacket. "Your coat was gone, but not Rachel's. Sam found Mrs. Barnes tied up behind the shed."

  "Oh no! Is she hurt?"

  "She has a lump on her noggin and a whopping headache," her father replied. "But she's fine. She'll be worried sick about the two of you by the time we get back, though."

  "What about Biscuit?"

  "He was with Cay as usual," Sam replied.

  "Pitch told us you'd taken a wagon," Jesse continued. "And the tracks heading toward Sam's were the freshest."

  "Rachel would like to see you," Jack said from behind them. "You men are welcome to come see the baby."

  Jesse and Sam doffed their hats and followed Amy to stand at the foot of the bed. Rachel lay propped on the pillows, looking tired but happy. The baby lay sleeping in her arms. Amy deliberately didn't look at the child.

  Tears glistened in Rachel's eyes before she spoke. "You're the bravest woman I know, Amy Shelby."

  "You're very brave, too."

  "You didn't fall apart or cry or lose your head. I'll never be able to repay you for staying and helping me." Rachel glanced at Jack, then at the other men. "There were several times she could have escaped alone, but she didn't—once, when Deezer was right outside this window, and she spoke to him. But she stayed for me."

  Jack's eyes glistened, too. "Thank you, Miz Shelby."

  "No more fussing about it—I did what needed to be done."

  As she always does, Jesse thought. He observed his wife's obvious discomfort with their thanks. From the moment Deezer had run from the house to alert him of the broken jars and the missing women, Jesse had been distressed over what his wife was going through, worried that she was afraid or that she'd be harmed.

  She had been a bulwark of strength and courage, however, quick-witted enough to talk with her father as he hid behind the well, clever enough to keep Rachel and herself safe, and bold enough to drug their captor, aiding their release.

  Jesse felt inept and helpless in the face of all she'd done. He'd been frustrated and angry, hiding in the yard, unable to risk shooting or storming the house for fear of risking the women's safety. He was glad to be able to handle matters now.

  "Can Rachel travel, or should she stay here?"

  Amy looked at her young friend. "I think as long as she's carried and we make a bed for her in the wagon, she'll be fine. We'll send for Leda to come look over the two of them." She moved around to the side of the bed. "Rachel, let's get you home."

  ***

  There wasn't much left of the day, but Jesse stuck close to Amy for the remaining hours. He drove the wagon with her seated at his side and the Douglases in the bed. He stood nearby as she greeted the hands and heard their mumbled words in response to their pleasure in seeing her safe.

  Cay came forward hesitantly, stepping from the edge of the gathering of men who were returning one by one back to their chores. The boy wore an uncertain expression, his blue eyes filled with apprehension. Jesse hadn't allowed him to accompany them to Sam's. Cay hadn't challenged his decision, but he'd clearly been unhappy.

  By the way his throat was working, Cay wanted to say something that refused to come out. Finally, he cleared his voice and spoke. "I had to stay here in case a stage came."

  "That's a big responsibility," Amy told him. "Did a stage arrive?"

  He nodded, and glanced at Jesse as he explained. "Driver was Pearly, so he helped me with the fresh team. He did grumble a might about no hot meal."

  Amy smiled. "Now, that's a man for you. I'm toted off as a hostage and he's thinking about his belly."

  Cay didn't share her amusement. He looked aside in embarrassment. "I'm, uh, I sure am glad you're back, Amy."

  "Me, too, buddy."

  The boy looked so forlorn and lost that Jesse nearly shoved him toward Amy, but the day's astounding events hadn't ended yet. Amy took a step forward, arms outstretched, and Cay moved right into her embrace to press his cheek against her breast.

  Amy's hand trembled as she smoothed Cay's sandy hair and held him close. She pressed her cheek to the top of his head. Seeing the two of them like that brought a lump to Jesse's throat and he glanced away.

  "Thanks for helping Jesse today," she said softly.

  Cay pulled away and glanced around selfconsciously, wiping his nose on his shirtsleeve.

  Amy ruffled his hair. "Why don't you join us inside after we get Mrs. Douglas settled?"

  In the soddy, Jesse started a fire in the fireplace. Jack carried in his wife and baby and placed them on the bed.

  After making sure Rachel was comfortable, Amy said, "I'll be back to check on you later. Send Jack for me if you need anything."

  At their place, Jesse watched Elthea Barnes grab Amy and hug her soundly, then step back to wipe tears from her eyes. "Why aren't you home resting?" Amy asked.

  "They tried to get me to go, but I had to see you home safe first." Sam stayed in the kitchen as though he, too, didn't want to get far away. Cay joined them as well. It was obvious that everyone had been terrified for Amy's safety and was relieved to have her back in their midst.

  "It's late." Amy looked to Mrs. Barnes. "Have the other men eaten?"

  "You're not to worry about feeding us," Jesse said, going into the other room and returning with the rocker. "Sit and rest while Sam and I put somethin' together. After supper, I'll ready a bath for you."

  Either she knew better than to object or she'd been more shaken than she let on, because Amy seated herself in the chair and eased back. "What happened to you this morning, Mrs. Barnes?"

  The woman explained that she'd been struck over the head while dumping ashes behind the shed, and had come to gagged, with her feet and hands bound. The poor woman had lain there for hours until Sam discovered her.

  "I hope you rested this afternoon," Amy told her.

  "Much as I could, what with knowing you and Rachel and that precious baby were in danger."

  Sam asked his daughter several questions about what had happened. Jesse worked and simply listened to her replies. Sometime later, when he looked over, Amy's eyes were closed.

  "Here, darlin'." Holding a plate, Jesse knelt before her.

  Her eyes fluttered open. "I'm not very hungry."

  "You need to eat anyway. Try a little something."

  The roast Amy had started that morning had cooked down to scraps. He had fried potatoes to go with it, and Sam had opened jars of green beans. Amy ate more than he had hoped she would, and drank a glass of milk besides.

  "Did you save the drippings?" she asked.

  He nodded.

  "Good. I'll make gravy for flapjacks in the morning."

  "Or you can stay in bed and be pampered for a day or so."

  "Jesse, I'm not sick."

  "And I don't want you to be." The thought of what might have happened today was like a dull knife in his chest. George Gray was a man with no conscience, as he'd proven by trying to use two innocent women for his own gain. Jesse had no doubt the man wouldn't have stopped short of injuring or killing both of them if he'd thought the deed would earn his freedom.

  Thank God Amy possessed a level head, had used her wit and kept them alive.

  The other men who'd been at Sam's all day came to eat, then one by one headed back to their chores, Cay joining them.

  "Deezer, put a couple o' kettles of water on the stove in the bathhouse, will ya, please?"

  The young man settled his hat with a nod. "Sure thing, boss."

  Sam insisted Mrs. Barnes take a seat while he took care of the dishes. Sam seemed extremely attentive to the woman, finally offering to take her home so she could rest.

  Jesse gathered clothing for Amy and walked her to the bathhouse, where he lit a lantern and filled the tub. Amy unbuttoned her shirtwaist and removed it, as well as her skirts and petticoats.
She glanced at him shyly, then pulled her chemise over her head and skimmed off her drawers.

  Her skin glowed golden in the lamplight, her alluring curves a delight to behold. Amy's tummy was rounded and her breasts plump. The impact of what that meant hit him with full force. Amy was pregnant.

  She hadn't said a word to him.

  He wanted to cry.

  He wanted to laugh.

  He wanted to go find Gray and kill him with his bare hands for endangering his wife and unborn child.

  Amy must have noticed the swift rush of realization and anger that swept over him, because she settled herself in the water and gave him a puzzled look. "Jesse?"

  He busied himself finding her fancy-smelling soap and a soft cloth. "Here you are."

  She accepted the items. "Is something wrong?"

  He knelt beside the tub, studied her lovely oval face and tenderly cupped her cheek. "Everything's fine now. You're home and you're safe."

  She gave him one of those sweet smiles that made him feel all soft inside. He loved her with every fiber of his being. Slowly, things between them were working out. There was a lot left unspoken yet, and Tim was still a barrier. But she no longer shut Jesse completely out. She had accepted Cay. And they were going to have another child.

  Why hadn't she told him as soon as she suspected?

  Jesse leaned over the edge of the tub to kiss her.

  Maybe she wanted him to notice.

  He ended the kiss and found a chair so he could sit nearby while she bathed. He didn't want to let her out of his sight. She slid down in the water and closed her eyes.

  Jesse glanced around the room. The fire in the stove kept the bathing person warm, but the heat made it uncomfortable for those who were clothed. The laundry area was in the back of the building, and both sides used the same stove.

  "I have a new appreciation for Adele, working in here most of the day."

  Amy stood and lathered her body. "What about me? I used to do most of the laundry and heat the water for baths."

  He hoped she was enjoying her bath as much as he. "I've always had an appreciation for you, Mrs. Shelby." He used a pail to rinse off the suds. "A deep appreciation."