June shook her head adamantly. “Not at all. It just feels—unnatural for a man other than my husband to see me there. It’s nothing you’ve done wrong at all!”
“You realize that as a doctor, I have more advanced training than a midwife does. That if something were to go wrong, I’d be able to perform a cesarean section to save the baby.”
“I don’t even know what that is! I just know I’d rather have a woman midwife than a man doctor. Please understand.”
Wesley nodded. “Fine. If that’s what you’d prefer, by all means, I will have my wife deliver your baby.” Inside, he wanted to scream. Yes, she’d proven she could deliver a baby, but that didn’t mean she should.
“I forgot something I needed and happened to overhear the conversation. I’ll be home for lunch.” He turned and left the room, leaving Patsy to stare after him.
She hated the position she was in. She wanted to help people, and she had the training to do it, but it made her husband unhappy. She wasn’t quite sure of the right thing to do.
June smiled at her, gripping her hand. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Hardy!”
Patsy smiled. “Please, call me Patsy. We’re obviously going to be getting to know each other better. I’d like to examine you to make certain that everything is going well. When was the last time you saw Dr. Hardy?”
“About a month ago.”
“That long?” She preferred to see patients weekly when they were in the later stages of pregnancy.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ve been seeing him less often than he wants me to.”
“Are you going to stick to the appointment schedule I give you? I need to know you’re going to be here and doing what you’re told.”
“Yes, ma’am. Of course. I’ll do whatever you say.”
Patsy called out to Emily. “I want you to stay at the table. If you finish your arithmetic, please just draw a picture. I’m going to be in my room examining Mrs. Miller.”
“Yes, Mama.” Emily had been through this many times with her mother. She understood well that it was her mama’s job to make sure women had healthy babies.
Patsy led June into her bedroom and had her lie down, getting her midwife bag. She got her stethoscope out and listened to the baby’s heartbeat for a moment. “He sounds strong. Have you had the chance to hear him yet?”
June’s eyes grew wide, and she shook her head. “Is that something I can do?”
Patsy laughed. “I always let my patients listen to the heartbeat. That’s your baby in there, not mine!” As she said the words, she realized just how much she wanted another baby. A little boy this time maybe.
She removed the stethoscope from her ears and handed it to June, finding the same spot where she’d just heard the heartbeat. June’s eyes lit up and she gasped. “There’s really a little person alive in there!”
Patsy smiled, nodding. “There really is. It’s one of the most amazing feelings in the world, isn’t it?” She carefully checked the other woman while she was occupied listening to the baby. “And you’re due in a few weeks, you said?”
June nodded. “Two or three, I think.”
“All right. I’ll want to see you again a week from today. And as soon as your labor pains start, you send someone for me.”
“You don’t want me to come here to have the baby?”
“No. I’d rather you delivered in the comfort of your own home. Wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you for understanding so well.”
Patsy smiled. “I’m a midwife, but I’m also a mother. I was so happy to be able to have my baby at home.”
“I heard you delivered Betty’s baby here in town.”
“I did. But only because she came to me just before she was about to have her. There was no way we could move her safely.” Patsy patted the girl’s arm. “Go ahead and sit up now.”
“There’s nothing wrong?”
“Nothing at all. I’ll see you in a week, and hopefully we’ll have a better idea when the baby is coming. This is your first?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ve only been married a year.”
Patsy smiled at that. “We’ll do our best to give you a healthy delivery.”
June hugged her. “Thank you, Mrs. Hardy. Your arrival here is like a dream come true for most of the ladies in town.”
Patsy sighed. She and her husband were going to have troubles. She could already see it.
Chapter Five
Four more pregnant women visited Patsy before lunchtime. She worked hard to bake cookies in between patients, because she wanted to have something to offer them while they sat and talked.
At lunch time, Wesley seemed annoyed, and she didn’t know how to make things better between them. “I’m sorry. I hope you know this wasn’t deliberate. I didn’t want to keep working the crazy hours of a midwife.” She’d already told him about the other four women who had come in.
“I know it wasn’t, but I wanted a full-time wife. Not a part-time wife and a part-time midwife.”
She frowned down at the food on her plate. “I know. I don’t know how to stop people from preferring a female to a male, though. And that’s the bottom line for every one of these women. They’d rather have a woman delivering their babies than a man.”
Wesley nodded abruptly. “My days are already too busy. You will be taking some of the load off me, and I suppose I should be grateful, but it just feels like things are spinning out of control. I like things controlled and orderly.” He looked at Emily. “Do you mind when your mama works?”
Emily shook her head. “No, because if she’s not working, I don’t get to play in the mud or climb trees or practice throwing my baseball.”
“Well, you shouldn’t be doing those things anyway. Boys do those things.”
The little girl blinked at him. “Why do you say that? I play baseball better than most boys. What does being a girl have to do with anything?”
Wesley shook his head at her. “Because girls should stay indoors and play with dolls or embroider.”
“Really? Are boys allowed to embroider?”
“I suppose they could if they wanted to, but I don’t think a boy would want to.”
“Well, that’s not fair then. I do want to climb a tree. Why can’t I do that?” Emily asked.
He sighed. “It’s just not how things are supposed to be done. You should want to wear frilly dresses and play with dolls.”
“Frilly dresses? Frilly dresses? Frilly dresses are made of fairy puke!”
Patsy jerked. “Watch your language!”
“Sorry, Mama. Fairy vomit then. Is that better?”
Patsy shook her head. “What am I going to do with you?”
Wesley looked back and forth between his new wife and her daughter. What on earth had he gotten himself into?
*****
By the end of the week, Patsy had ten patients, and a husband who wasn’t certain how he felt about the situation. On Friday evening, the two of them sat down together in the parlor after Emily had been tucked into bed.
Wesley shook his head at her, even as his hand reached out for hers. “I’m not even sure what to say about this. I never thought taking a wife would lighten my workload, nor did I want it to.”
“I’m not doing anything to make this happen. The women are just talking, and after they do, I get another knock on the door.”
He sighed. “Well, I think we should make accommodations for it, since the situation doesn’t seem to be rectifying itself.”
“What do you mean?”
“Since I’m out on calls in the afternoons, why don’t you use my office? I’ll keep using it in the mornings. Do you think that would work?”
She nodded. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” She’d just been examining the women on her bed, and while it wasn’t ideal, it worked. Once they were sharing a room, she could turn her bedroom into an examination room.
“I mind the whole situation, but I don’t have a problem with you using my office in the afterno
ons. I just wish I knew what I’d done to make all these women, one of whom I’ve delivered six babies for, want to switch to you.”
“Most women feel more comfortable with a woman delivering their babies. I don’t know why, but I do know that it’s true. When I agreed to be your wife, I thought maybe I’d be able to help you with deliveries, but I had no idea it would turn out this way.”
He frowned. “If you worry that there might be something that could go awry with a delivery, would you send the patient to me?”
“Oh, yes. I won’t risk anyone’s life. Every woman needs to see the person who can best help them. Some women are not meant to have a midwife deliver their baby. They need a doctor.”
“I’m glad you can see that.” He turned to her. “I don’t know why I envisioned getting a wife and daughter would be a calm easy transition. You two have turned not only me but this entire town on its ear.”
Patsy blushed. “I don’t think that’s true.”
“Emily threw her baseball at that boy who said girls couldn’t play ball, and hit him in the middle of the forehead, leaving a knot that required him to be seen by me. I’m glad he didn’t have a concussion!”
“Yes, but now she has a team to play with. And they always win!”
“No one can hit off her fastball. She’s a seven-year-old girl. How is she ever going to find a husband if she doesn’t start acting more ladylike?”
Patsy shrugged. “I have no idea. I just know she’s not happy unless she’s running around being boisterous. I try to watch her, but when the ladies come to talk to me about midwifing, I don’t know what to do except let her play.” She took a deep breath, hating that her daughter’s boyish nature bothered him. “Besides, by the time she’s of marriageable age, she’ll most likely have calmed down.”
“Have you tried to get her to play with her dolls?” Wesley knew that if the child just stayed occupied, she’d stay out of trouble.
She sighed. “If she only has dolls to play with, she tends to sever their limbs and pretend they were blown off by a cannon. That’s what her cousins did to her dolls when she was little, so she thinks that’s how you’re supposed to play with dolls.”
He blinked a couple of times. “She’s never played with other girls?”
“She doesn’t like other girls. They’re all too worried about getting their dresses dirty, and they won’t play in the mud with her. Or go fishing. Or even climb trees.”
“I’ll have to see if I can find her a suitable playmate.”
Patsy frowned. “You can’t just accept that she’s not like other girls and wait for her to grow out of it?”
“It’s not that I don’t accept her as she is, because of course I do. I just think she’ll be much happier if she’s doing things that are more suitable to a girl her age.”
“Like playing with dolls and doing embroidery.”
“Yes, exactly like that.”
“I’ll try. Again.” She knew it was useless, but he was her husband. She’d listen to him as much as she could. As long as it didn’t mean hurting her daughter in the process.
“I hope you don’t think I’m criticizing her. I just know she’ll be happier if she can learn now to be more like other girls.”
Patsy nodded, reaching up to remove a pin that was stabbing into the back of her head. It had been another very long day. “Do you work tomorrow?”
He nodded. “I usually work on Saturday mornings, and then I take Saturday afternoons and Sundays off.” His eyes were glued to her hair, which was all starting to fall after the pin she’d removed.
He reached out and touched the back of her head, finding another pin and removing it. And then another. It took him less than a minute to have her hair spilling down around her shoulders, and his eyes widened with awe. “How long is your hair?”
She stood, letting her hair fall down around her. “About that long.” It was past her bottom. She hadn’t ever cut it.
“I—may I touch it?”
She nodded. “Of course. You’re my husband.” She sat back down beside him, and he reached out to stroke her hair away from her face.
“I don’t know why I’ve always been fascinated by red hair, but I have. I would love it if you’d let me brush it sometime.”
She blushed, slightly embarrassed. “It’s just hair, but sure. I wouldn’t mind if you brushed it.”
“Really? You’d let me?”
She nodded. “It’ll save me the work. It takes forever to brush it every night before bed.”
“Go get your hairbrush. I’ll do it now so you don’t have to.” He knew he was acting too eager, but he couldn’t help it. His whole life he’d loved red hair, and he so badly wanted to brush hers. He wiped his palms on his pants, because they were all sweaty at the mere thought.
She wasn’t sure why he was so interested in her hair, but she hurried away to her room and brought back her hair brush. Instead of sitting beside him again, she sat on the floor at this feet, crossing her legs beneath her. It’s how she had Emily sit when she had to fix her hair, and she knew it would be easier for him.
Wesley took the brush she handed him over her shoulder, spreading his legs, so she could rest her back against the sofa. He’d pictured sitting like this with her over and over since they’d first met.
“Have you ever brushed a woman’s hair before?” Patsy asked as he hesitated.
“No, I can’t say the opportunity has ever arisen.” He frowned. He wanted to do it, but he wasn’t sure the best way to go about it.
“Separate it into sections, and then brush each section several times before moving on to the next.”
That seems reasonable. He took a handful of hair, and ran the brush through it, amazed at how silky it felt in his fingers. He wanted to run her hair across his lips, but he felt that would be asking way too much, given their relationship. He’d known her for less than a week, after all!
Patsy tilted her head forward, to give him access and enjoyed the motions of the brush drifting through her hair. Having her hair brushed had never seemed sensual to her before, but she’d never had a man brush it for her.
He worked for over an hour on her hair, both of them silent. Finally, he laid the brush down, his arm tired from the motions. He couldn’t believe just how arousing touching her hair had been, and he almost felt as if he’d done something wrong—almost.
“Thank you,” she said softly. Truly, the whole experience had been eye-opening for her.
“Any time you want me to brush it for you, I will. I—I know it’s strange, but I really enjoyed it.”
She rested her head against his thigh, knowing she was being bold, but no longer caring. “Any time is fine with me.”
“May I kiss you?” Wesley asked softly. He hadn’t kissed her since the second night she’d been there, and he felt shy asking.
She got back onto the couch beside him, sitting close. “You don’t have to ask, you know. You’re my husband.”
“I would never take advantage of that fact and touch you without your permission, though.”
“You have my permission to touch me or kiss me whenever you like. There, now you’ll never have to ask again,” she said with a grin, her hand moving up to touch his cheek. It was covered with stubble, because he had shaved early that morning before work, and it was late at night now. She liked the scratchy feel on her palm. When she and Joseph had been married, they’d both been very young, and his facial hair had never grown quite so quickly.
Wesley looked into her eyes, brushing her hair over her shoulder, thrilled he had permission to touch it finally. “I’m never going to get tired of your hair.”
She laughed softly. “I’ve never thought of it as anything special. It always made me feel a bit different.”
“Because of the color?” His eyes moved down to her lips, and he thought about how soft they’d felt the one time he’d kissed her.
She nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t have any friends who had red hair. Just my mother, my sis
ter, and me.”
“It’s so beautiful.” He leaned down then, capturing her lips with his. This kiss wasn’t a gentle, getting-to-know-you kiss like the first kiss they’d shared. His lips took hers boldly, his tongue swooping into her mouth to take possession, while his hands caught her by the waist and pulled her even closer.
Patsy responded with the hunger her body felt, her arms wrapping around his neck and holding him tightly. This was the part of marriage she’d missed the most. The kissing and being close.
It was long minutes later when Wesley lifted his head, his forehead resting against hers. He wanted to make love with his wife. He didn’t want to wait any longer, but would she realize how inexperienced he was? Would it bother her?
“I don’t want to stop,” he said softly, waiting for her response. He’d promised her time. If she would release him from that promise, then he would take her to his bed. If not, then he would wait. For as long as she needed to get to know him better.
Patsy looked into his eyes. “I’ve been hoping you’d say that,” she said with a grin. She got to her feet, taking his hand and pulling him after her toward his bedroom.
Chapter Six
Wesley found himself staring off into space at odd times on Saturday, thinking about his sweet wife. Their night had been magical for him, and he could think of nothing except the night ahead of him, when he could do it all again. He wanted to kick himself for insisting they wait for so long.
He turned back to the patient on the bed. “It looks like you were right, Mrs. Brown. You’re expecting.”
The mother of three nodded tiredly. She was only in her mid-twenties. “All right. Do I need to see your wife now, or should I keep seeing you?”
He blinked a few times. Did the women now think they needed to see Patsy for their pregnancies? How odd! “Well, I’m happy to continue seeing any of the women in town who’d like me to deliver their babies for them. Most have been adamant they wanted my wife, though.”
She shrugged. “I guess I don’t much care either way. I just need to have someone there to deliver it.”
Mail Order Midwife (Brides of Beckham Book 18) Page 4