Wedded for the Baby

by Dorothy Clark

  “I’ll bring Howard with me.” She locked gazes with Trace and wished she knew him well enough to read what he was thinking at her declaration. Because that was what it was. She would not be dissuaded from caring for Audrey—not after what Trace said about it being a dangerous time for the baby.

  “We will discuss that possibility after Blake carries Audrey upstairs. She needs to be in bed.”

  She looked at the taut muscle along Trace’s jaw and nodded. At least he hadn’t said no.

  * * *

  Trace stepped out onto the porch, crossed to the top of the steps and stared into the darkness. The air was heavy with the promise of rain. A blue-white brilliance flickered and flashed across the night sky at the top of the mountains, and the grumble of thunder vibrated in his chest. The storm was moving fast. It would be over the valley in a few minutes.

  He lifted his cup and took a swallow of the hot coffee in an effort to loosen the knots in his stomach that had plagued him all afternoon and evening. He had sent Audrey Latherop to bed and told her to stay there until after the third month of her pregnancy had passed. It was all any doctor could do in the face of a threat of miscarriage. And he was no longer a doctor. Audrey and her baby were not his responsibility. Still, the morning’s events haunted him. Had he missed anything? Was there more he could have done for them without revealing his past? He’d told Blake to come for him, that he might be able to help if there was any change.

  If Audrey started bleeding...

  The knots in his stomach twisted tighter. He lowered his gaze and watched Katherine’s shadow moving through the golden light that fell from her bedroom windows to spread over the ground. She was packing the baby’s valise—preparing what she would need to take with her tomorrow. He frowned, rubbed his free hand over the taut muscles at the back of his neck. She had been surprised when he had agreed that she should care for Audrey. They had all seemed surprised. But it was the perfect way for him to stay abreast of the news of Audrey’s condition and pass along any advice he might be able to offer without getting personally involved. And, in a way, it was like a reprieve from his situation.

  Katherine would not be spending her days in his home and that would ease the emotional turmoil he’d suffered since her arrival with the infant. The hours she and the baby would be at the Latherops, he already spent at his apothecary shop—but he would not have to eat his afternoon meal with her sitting across the table from him, talking about the baby. And her evenings would be taken up with the needed preparations for the next day. And there was another benefit. It would give him time to come up with a plan to replace her in a way that would be explainable to Mr. Ferndale. And this time there would be no error. The woman would be older and less...attractive.

  The wind rose, plucked at his coat and pants. Raindrops splashed on the ground and spattered on the steps. He moved farther back on the porch and watched the storm come. Rain pounded on the roof, splattered against the railing and wet the floor. Lightning streaked to the ground and made towering shadows of the nearby pines. Thunder shook the planks beneath his feet and rattled the windowpanes. But it was nothing compared to the tempest inside him. The muscle in his jaw twitched. His fingers tightened around his cup. Another baby had been thrust into his life. An unborn one. Like his son. Would this one also die before it could live because he wasn’t skilled enough to save it?

  Pain took his breath. He glared up at the black storm-filled sky. “Haven’t You punished me enough? You took my wife and child. What else do You want from me? Stop bringing helpless infants into my life!”

  Lightning flickered, thunder grumbled and then there was only the sound of the falling rain.

  He threw the rest of his coffee out onto the grass, spun on his heel and went into the house.

  Chapter Six

  Breakfast was over. Trace stood and watched Katherine leave the dining room to go upstairs and get the baby. His liberation had begun. He tossed his napkin onto the table and walked to the kitchen, his step lighter than it had been since Katherine and the baby had arrived.

  “Ah Key, I need you to go and hitch up the buggy. Mrs. Latherop is ill, and Mrs. Warren will be spending her days with her until her condition improves. It will be your job to drive Mrs. Warren to town and then go and bring her back every day.”

  The houseman emptied the shovel of coal he held into the stove’s firebox, straightened and brushed his hands together. His long black braid swung back and forth in refusal. “I no have time to cook and clean house and hitch and drive horses all day. Have much work to do. You go town. You take Missy W to town, bring Missy W back. I clean up breakfast dishes, make good dinner. Be ready one hour!” The houseman grabbed a dishpan and headed for the dining room.

  Trace stared after Ah Key, stunned by his refusal, irritated because the houseman’s argument made good sense. Of course people would expect him to drive Katherine and the baby to town when they learned of her offer to care for Audrey Latherop. He should have thought of that instead of focusing on his freedom from having to eat his afternoon meal with her. He plunked down on the bench in the kitchen entrance, yanked on his boots and coat, lit a lantern and headed for the stable.

  The tops of the mountains to the east were rimmed by the golden promise of a rising sun. He frowned, pulled up his collar against the predawn chill and quickened his pace. He needed to open the shop before the first train arrived, and hitching a horse to a buggy was not something he was practiced at—though he soon would be. His frown deepened to a scowl. He opened the double doors, stepped out of the dim early-morning light into the deeper darkness of the stable and hung the lantern on a hook screwed into a beam.

  A low whicker came from the stall. The smell of hay and dust rose from the litter disturbed by his boots. He slipped the bridle on the dapple gray mare, opened her stall and snubbed her to the hitching post. She stood quietly while he harnessed her. He smiled and patted her neck, pleased by his quick progress. “Good girl, Shadow. Now let’s get you hitched to the carriage.” He loosed her snubbing, gathered the reins in his left hand, grabbed her cheek strap with his right and pushed. “Back, girl, back.”

  The mare stamped her hoof and tossed her head. He grabbed for the cheek strap that had slipped from his grasp and the mare danced sideways.

  “Whoa, Shadow! Whoa...” He tugged on the reins, drew the mare’s head close, took a firmer grip on the strap and pushed harder. “Now back! Back, girl!” The mare snorted and yanked against the restraint of the reins, trying to pull away.

  “Forget tell you no push. Horse stubborn.”

  He spun around and looked at his houseman standing in the open doorway. Ah Key hurried over to him and held out his hand. “Take apple, put by nose, move apple, horse follow. All good.”

  He took the apple and held it by the mare’s muzzle. Her nostrils flared. She dipped her head to take a bite and he pushed the apple toward the buggy as Ah Key suggested. The mare stepped back. Slowly, step by step he backed her between the shafts. “Good girl, Shadow.” He gave the mare the apple, patted her neck and listened to her contented munching while he finished harnessing her to the runabout. He led her outside, closed the stable doors and then continued on toward the house, vowing to never again enter the stable without an apple at hand.

  The mare’s hoofs thudded against the damp dirt of the path and the buggy rumbled along behind her, yellow circles of light from the side lamps glowing in the dark. He led Shadow into the wide curve that followed the octagon shape of the house, looked up and frowned. Katherine stood at the top of the porch steps with the baby in her arms and the valise at her feet. The sight of her waiting there took his breath. His reaction to her stole his composure. He tossed the reins over the railing, picked up the valise and turned back to stow it on the buggy floor. The soft whisper of Katherine’s long skirts slipping from step to step as she descended intensified his awareness of her. “Th
ere was no need for you to wait out on the porch in the cold. I would have come inside for you.”

  “I didn’t want to make you late in opening your shop. Will you hold Howard while I get in, please?”

  His gut tightened. He cradled the swaddled baby in his arm and handed her into the buggy, stood waiting while she arranged her skirts and then tugged at the sleeves of her wool coat and adjusted its velvet collar. Howard squirmed and twisted, and the flap of the blanket protecting the baby’s face from the morning chill fell away. His chest constricted. He replaced the flap of blanket, trying his best not to see the baby looking up at him. What is taking her so long? He held his tongue while Katherine reached down and moved the valise a little closer to her feet then straightened and smoothed out the wide velvet band around the bottom of her coat.

  “I’m ready now.” She smiled and held out her arms.

  He returned the baby to her, snatched the reins from the railing and climbed to his seat. His arm brushed against hers. He scowled and snapped the reins to start Shadow moving. The thought of making this trip to and from town morning and evening of every day until Audrey Latherop’s third month of pregnancy was over made him wish he’d bought a carriage instead of the small, cozy runabout.

  “It looks as if it will be a nice day. I thought perhaps the storm from last night would continue.”

  “Once a storm passes over the mountains to the east, it’s gone.” He frowned at his curt reply. Katherine didn’t deserve such treatment. She may be the cause of his discomfort, but it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know the effect her presence had on him. He softened his response. “At least, I’ve never known a storm to return. The height of the mountains probably prevents it.”

  “I suppose so.”

  The wheel in front of him fell into a deep rut and the runabout lurched.

  “Oh!”

  Katherine fell against him, struggled to right herself, the task made difficult by the baby in her arms. He turned slightly, helped her sit erect then turned back, trying to ignore the catch in his lungs from the feel of her against him.

  “Thank you.” She gave him a grateful smile.

  He nodded and concentrated his attention on his driving, trying to spot any deep ruts or holes in the road ahead—he wanted no more such incidents. The lamps were useless against the thick gray mist that rose from Whisper Creek to hover over the road. The gurgling sound of the stream rushing over its rocky bed made a soft accompaniment to the clop of Shadow’s hoofs and the rumble of the wheels.

  “You made it very clear yesterday that Audrey was not to get out of bed for any reason. Is she permitted to recline against propped up pillows to eat?”

  Oh, no! He wasn’t going to have the responsibility for Audrey’s and her baby’s life or death thrust on him! He glanced over at Katherine. She was looking at him, waiting for his answer. The muscle along his jaw twitched. “A gentle incline on pillows will be all right—as long as she doesn’t push herself up or strain to rest against them. Have Blake lift her into the reclining position.”

  “All right. I’ll make certain she doesn’t try to move herself.”

  He could feel her studying him. He kept his gaze focused on the road. They were almost there...

  “You’re very knowledgeable about Audrey’s... condition.”

  She’d left the “why?” unspoken, but it was clear he had to quell her curiosity or face probing questions at some time in the future. He clenched the reins and phrased his answer carefully. “I had several doctor assoc—friends back home. They use to talk to me about their cases.” Asking for my advice, but no more. Never again. The lamps in Blake’s store were lit. He halted the mare.

  Blake opened the door and hurried out to the carriage. “Good morning, Trace, Katherine.”

  “Good morning, Blake.” He tried not to ask, but his training and doctor’s instincts were too strong. He couched his inquiry in the form of a politeness. “I hope you and your wife had a good night.”

  “Yes, very.” A frown creased Blake’s forehead. “Audrey feels so well she’s sure it would be all right to get up and do some simple tasks. I told her I’d ask what you thought.”

  He nodded, tried to act normal while the bile churned in his stomach and burned into his throat. It was always the same. Once the pain stopped the women felt they should get back to their wifely duties. “That would not be wise. Any slight strain could bring on another cramping episode.” And the death of your baby. “It may happen anyway.” There’s no way to stop it. I tried, Charlotte. I did all I knew and more. His hands fisted on his knees. He held himself from urging the mare into a run to get away from Blake and the talk of Audrey’s condition.

  “I’m sure she will be more content with Katherine here.”

  “I’ll do my best to make that so.” Katherine placed her hand in Blake’s offered one, stepped down and looked back up at him. “I’ll see you this evening.”

  He nodded and handed Blake the baby’s valise. “I will be here to pick you up as soon as I’ve closed the shop and hitched the carriage.”

  “Let me help you with the hitching, Trace. It’s the least I can do to repay your kindness in letting your bride spend her days here caring for Audrey. Where will the carriage be?”

  “At the church. I’ll let Shadow graze in the pen out back.” The tension across his shoulders eased at the change of subject. “And thanks for the offer. I haven’t much experience with horses and I can use the help. Oh—and bring an apple.”

  He drove off, chiding himself for not giving Katherine a warmer farewell, but it was all he could do to look at her holding the baby in her arms. He would do better when he greeted her tonight.

  A long blast of a whistle echoed down the valley, announcing the first train of the day. It would be arriving in a few minutes. He turned the mare and drove to the church to unhitch.

  * * *

  “I feel terrible having you go to all of this trouble for me, Katherine.”

  “I’m only happy that I’m here to help, Audrey. Mrs. Ferndale seems nice enough, but she looks a bit...pampered. And the pastor’s wife has her hands full with her family.” She gave a small laugh and laid Howard on the bed beside Audrey to remove his hat and coat. “It’s not as if there is an abundance of women in Whisper Creek.”

  “That’s certainly true. It’s a little daunting to think of birthing a baby with no midwife or doctor in town to help. If something goes wrong...” Audrey touched the blond fuzz on Howard’s head then looked up at her. Tears shimmered in her hazel eyes. “I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here, Katherine.” Audrey’s voice broke. “You have such a good heart to offer to do all of this work for me when you don’t even know me.”

  Follow that still, small voice inside you, Katherine. The Lord will lead you. Her breath caught. Had the Lord orchestrated all that had happened so she would be here to help Audrey in her time of need, as well as helping Trace and little Howard?

  “And Trace—how generous of him to sacrifice his time with you so you can be here with me.”

  I think Trace is relieved to be free of my presence. The thought hurt. She smiled and placed Howard’s little hat and coat in the valise sitting on the chest at the end of the bed beside her folded coat. “Only at dinner, Audrey. Trace is at the shop all day.”

  “I forgot about that. Still, it’s very kind of him. Katherine?”

  “Yes.”

  “Blake padded a small crate with a blanket and put it in the kitchen for your baby to sleep in. But...would you mind terribly if he slept here on the bed beside me?”

  She looked at Audrey’s hand touching Howard’s tiny one. “Only if you promise you won’t try to lift him if he cries.”

  “I promise.”

  She smiled, covered Howard with his blanket and straightened. “It’s early. Are you hungry or—” />
  “No. Blake gave me one of the cinnamon rolls left from the other day.” Audrey’s lips curved. “He’s not much of a cook.”

  “Well, I think I can manage to do a little better than a roll for dinner and supper. Not that your cinnamon rolls aren’t delicious! We enjoyed them.” She took Howard’s bottles from the valise to put in the refrigerator. “Have you anything in mind for dinner, or shall I improvise with what I find in the kitchen?”

  “There is cabbage salad, and cold roasted beef and bread you could use for sandwiches for dinner. I hadn’t planned anything for supper. If you can’t find something you need in the kitchen, you’ve only to ask Blake. He will bring it to you from the store. Oh—there is a clean apron in the long drawer in the worktable. And be careful when you turn on the cold water. It flows with a great deal of force.”

  “All right. Now you rest.” She leaned down and kissed Howard’s soft cheek. “I’ll be back to check on both of you in a short while.”

  * * *

  “I’ll have a dozen of those Smith Brothers cough lozenges please.”

  “Yes, madam.” Trace opened one of the Smith Brothers envelopes and counted the lozenges into it. “Will there be anything else?”

  “I’ve been feeling very tired and listless these last few days. Have you anything to make me feel stronger?”

  “I have several health-restoring products, madam. Or perhaps Weld’s Strengthening Bitters might help.”

  “I’ll try the bitters.”

  “A good choice, madam.” Trace turned to the shelf behind him and took down a bottle of the bitters and put it in a bag with the cough drops. He studied the woman’s face. She looked pale and drawn. “May I suggest you concentrate on eating good strengthening soups and drink plenty of liquids for the next few days? Lemonade would be a good choice. And get plenty of rest.”

  The woman smiled and nodded. “Thank you, young man. I’ll do as you suggest. Though it may be a bit difficult aboard the train.”

  A tough-looking bowlegged cavalry lieutenant held the door open for the woman then stepped up to the counter and scanned the shelves.