You Belong to Me

by You Belong to Me (NCP) (lit)

  Max returned thirty minutes later, put a tray across Julie's legs and sat on the side of the bed. "Mrs. O'Brien sent roast beef and vegetables. There's chocolate cake for dessert."

  A wave of sympathy swept over Julie. Max didn't want to be here, tending a hugely pregnant woman. She had trapped him and this wasn't the first time. It seemed they were both doomed to continue committing the same mistakes over and over again. "Don't look so worried. I'm experiencing a little twinge of false labor. Remember the little episode I had about two weeks before Shannon came? I was so sure she was on her way. You rushed me to the hospital in the middle of the night."

  Max managed a weak smile. "And the doctor sent us right back home."

  "We're wiser now." Julie said over another fierce gust of howling wind.

  "Are we?" Max leaned against the bedpost. "I wonder."

  Another pain made Julie clutch her stomach and moan. A second later the lights flickered then faded, leaving the room in total darkness.

  Max placed a steadying hand on Julie's food tray. "Be still. The lights will be back on soon."

  Julie waited for several long minutes. Slowly realization dawned. The lights weren't going to come on again.

  Max's voice was reassuring. "We have a back up generator. It provides electricity for the living room, den and kitchen. Stay put until I can set this tray down and find a flashlight."

  A jagged flash of lightening bolted across the dark sky briefly illuminating the room. Max made use of that luminous second to set Julie's tray on her chest. "Don't move until I get back to help you." He began to feel his way toward his room.

  After what seemed a long time, Max returned. A beam of light preceded him. "Bring your pillow. You can lie on the couch." Stopping beside the bed he offered his arm. "Hold onto me."

  With Max's arm to cling to Julie stood. As her weight shifted a rush of fluid gushed from between her legs soaking her undergarments and running down to the backs of her calves. Her fingers dug into Max's arms. "My water broke."

  Chapter Twenty

  Julie settled back on the living room couch and through a haze of pain heard the clock on the mantle strike nine p.m. The last several hours had been long and unsettling not only for her, but for Max and Mrs. O'Brien as well. Mrs. O'Brien sat huddled in the overstuffed chair literally wringing her hands. Max leaned against a far wall looking at Julie with what seemed to be cool detachment.

  Julie pushed a pillow under her knees and tried to remember what the child-birthing instructor had said about relaxing being an important exercise. Tension cramped into her stomach with each new twinge of pain. She was going to have her baby and with no one but Max and Mrs. O'Brien in attendance. As the pain ebbed away she tried to smile. "It's much easier if I remember to breathe slowly and evenly."

  The wind howled through the eaves, shook trees and rattled windowpanes. What had begun earlier as rain was now icy sleet that struck the house with driving force.

  Max shifted his position and crossed one foot over the other. "I could help if you'd let me."

  "I'd welcome your help." Julie's fingers dug into the sides of the pillow. "Maybe you could bring me a damp cloth to wipe my face."

  Her words galvanized Max into action. "I'll get a wash cloth." He dashed toward the bathroom.

  Mrs. O'Brien asked, "Is there anything I can do?"

  If there wasn't, Julie thought she should invent something. "I could use a plastic sheet. I'm leaking fluid."

  "I'll get it." Mrs. O'Brien moved toward the hall with a swiftness that belied her size and age. "And I'll find some more pillows and a potty."

  Julie could use both. She took a deep breath and tried to rid herself of the fear that rose with each recurring pain. The baby was coming two weeks early and under less than optimal conditions. Would he be all right?

  Max reappeared carrying a basin of warm water and a washcloth. He put the basin on the table beside the couch, squeezed water from a cloth wiped Julie's face. "I tried to call Doctor Weatherby. I couldn't reach him. The phone lines must be down. I tried my cell phone. I couldn't get through on it either."

  Julie was free of pain now and grateful for the respite. "Even if you reached him Doctor Weatherby couldn't get here. The weather outside is terrible."

  "I know." Max dropped the washcloth into the basin. "I thought he might give me some instructions about what to do."

  He sounded a little apprehensive. Julie assured him, "You've taken all the child birthing classes. You know what to do."

  "I know what to do to help but delivering a baby is another matter." Max took a deep breath. "Don't worry. Everything will be all right."

  "I'm sure it will," Julie answered. "Childbirth is the most natural thing in the world and Mrs. O'Brien is here to help."

  Max's expression turned grim. "I don't think Mrs. O'Brien is going to be much help. The poor woman is frightened out of her wits." Then he murmured something under his breath that Julie didn't quite catch. Before she could ask talons of pain were clawing at her back again. She bit her lip as the pain became more intense.

  Max pulled the pillow from under Julie's knees and placed it behind her back. "Inhale." He took her hand in his. As the contraction progressed he helped her through it. "Exhale, and breathe slowly until the pain is over."

  As the pain ebbed slowly away she straightened. "I'm glad you're here."

  Max touched her hand to his face. "I'm here for you, always."

  If she could only believe that--Julie was too engrossed in her own pain to pursue the matter. "Thanks."

  Mrs. O'Brien came puffing into the room, carrying a pillow under each arm and a pail in one hand. "I brought more pillows. I couldn't find a potty. This bucket should do nicely if you have to throw up or..." Her voice died away on a note of embarrassment.

  This was no time for social amenities or misplaced modesty. "I may need it for both." Julie nodded toward the corner. "Put it there."

  Mrs. O'Brien hastened to obey and then laid the pillows on the end of the couch. "What should I do now, Mr. Max?" She stood waiting for further instructions.

  Max pushed one of the pillows under Julie's knees and put the other behind her shoulders. "Mrs. Anderson hasn't had much in the way of nourishment today. You could make her some toast."

  Julie knew she would need strength as the night wore on. "Bring some honey and a cup of hot tea, too." She remembered that Max hadn't eaten dinner. "Mr. Anderson needs to eat something too."

  Max said, "The boys in the bunk house will be over soon. I've asked them to bring wood from the pile behind the barn and stack it in the kitchen. There's no electricity in the bunk house and very little heat. They will have to stay in the house tonight. Fix them some food for them too."

  Mrs. O'Brien seemed at last, to rise to the occasion. "They can spread their bed rolls in the den. That's the only other room except this one and the kitchen that has electricity."

  "I've stained your couch." Julie told Max as she eyed the pink tinge that was seeping through her clothing and spreading in a widening circle across the upholstery.

  Max paled. "You're bleeding. That must be the bloody show the instructor talked about. It's nothing to be upset about."

  "Are you talking about the blood or the couch?" Julie asked with a sudden flash of humor. She laid her hand on his arm and squeezed. "I need someone to hang onto."

  Before Max could answer Mrs. O'Brien returned carrying a plastic sheet and two blankets. "Help me Mr. Max and we'll put these under Miss Julie."

  Even in her distraught condition, Julie couldn't help but notice. Mrs. O'Brien had called her Miss Julie. She had never done that before.

  It took some moving and shifting, but Max and Mrs. O'Brien finally managed to make Julie a makeshift bed on the couch. Max straightened from folding a sheet under a cushion. "Now you can lie down."

  There was nothing Julie would have liked better, still she disagreed. "I need to move around. It will hurry my labor along."

  "I'll help you." Max put his
hand under her elbow before turning to Mrs. O'Brien. "Will you see that the boys get settled in the den?"

  "I'll see to it." Mrs. O'Brien moved toward the kitchen, mumbling under her breath as she went. "Tea and toast, honey and juice, and put the boys in the den. Tea and toast and..." Her voice grew faint and then died away.

  With Max's assistance Julie walked back and forth across the room several times before sitting on the edge of the couch to catch her breath and relax for a moment. "What time is it?"

  Max glanced at his watch. "Nine-thirty, are you having another pain?"

  Julie bit her lip and nodded as ripples of pain began in her back, traveled around to her stomach and cramped into her lower abdomen. She put her arms across her stomach and doubled over. "Yes."

  Max sat down beside her and gently pulled her to a sitting position. "Take a deep breath, and try to relax."

  Julie obeyed, thankful for all the practice they had gone through in preparation for this event.

  As the pain ebbed and faded, Max consulted his watch. "Your contractions are twenty minutes apart and lasting twenty to thirty seconds. That means you're well into the first stage of labor." He put a comforting arm around her shoulder. "We still have a long way to go." His arm tightened. "Would you like to walk again?"

  "Yes." With Max's help Julie stood and once more began to pace across the floor.

  An hour passed. Mrs. O'Brien brought a tray of food and a pot of tea. "The boys are all settled in the den." She set the tray on the table beside the couch. "They've filled one side of the kitchen with fire wood."

  Max stooped to poke the fire in the fireplace. "Good. We need to keep this room very warm." He stood the poker against the fireplace and straightened to a standing position. "Stay with Mrs. Anderson while I bring a few logs in here."

  Mrs. O'Brien nodded but she made no effort to sit. "Should I boil some water?" She asked Julie as Max disappeared through the doorway.

  "Only a little," Julie answered. "And find a pair of sharp scissors and some stout string."

  "How many pots," Mrs. O'Brien asked anxiously.

  Julie though Mrs. O'Brien had seen too many old movies. "One kettle is plenty. We need enough to sterilize the scissors and the string." Another pain grabbed Julie. They were coming more frequently now and increasing in duration and intensity. She was in the throes of a hard contraction when Max came through the door.

  He dropped the logs, rushed to her side and took her hand. "Start the pant, blow sequence, Julie." He seemed so assured and in command. Julie began to relax and breathe as he instructed. When the pain had finally abated she straightened and smiled at him. "Thanks."

  Max gave her a broad wink. "Anytime; relax and rest while you can. You're doing great." Three hours later Julie's pains were two minutes apart and lasting up to ninety seconds. Max had put a pair of his socks on her feet. They extended far up her leg. He had barely completed his task when another pain ripped through her. It was much more intense.

  Max insisted that she lie on the couch. He pushed her legs apart and performed a cursory examination before raising his head to say, "You've gone into the transition period. The baby should be here before too long."

  To Julie every second was an eternity. Long could be measured in minutes. She felt a cool cloth on her forehead. Opening her eyes, she saw Mrs. O'Brien standing above her. "Just hang on, Miss Julie. Our little one will be here very soon now."

  Pain had blotted out clear thinking. The contractions didn't start and they didn't stop. Agonizing screams pierced the air. Julie recognized her own voice but she couldn't stop. Through a fearful fog of unremitting pain, she heard Max say, "Bear down, Julie. I can see his head."

  She was being ripped asunder! Julie fought to hold onto consciousness and lost the battle. The next thing she knew Max was laying her son across her abdomen. "Hold onto him, Julie. He's wet and slick, but he's alive and beautiful."

  Max tied the navel cord with a piece of sterile rag and wiped away obstructions from the baby's mouth and nose. Not at all pleased by such treatment, the infant let out a loud yell and then began to cry lustily. It was the most beautiful sound Julie had ever heard. A feeling of great peace and serenity stole over her. Glowing with pride, relief and joy, she smiled down at her shrieking son. "He is beautiful."

  Max wrapped the baby in a blanket and laid him in Julie's arms. She rubbed her fingers across his downy head as his rose petal mouth nuzzled at her breast. She was holding a miracle, a tiny, living, breathing, miracle. "Should I feed him?"

  "Of course," Max was busy now putting the afterbirth in a brown paper bag.

  "Have you seen him?" Julie asked, as the baby began to suck her breast greedily. She splayed his tiny hand and counted his fingers. "He's perfect."

  "I ushered him into the world." Max sat on the side of the makeshift bed. "We did it, Julie." Without uttering another word or giving the slightest warning, he slid off the side of the couch and onto the floor in a dead faint.

  Mrs. O'Brien came around the side of the couch. "Glory be! The poor man's passed out. I'd best get one of the boys in here to help me get him to his feet."

  With the help of Hank and Slim, Mrs. O'Brien managed to get Max into a chair. She was bathing his face with the washcloth she had used to wash Julie's face when his eyes flew open. "What happened?" He sat up and pushed the washcloth aside. "How's Julie?"

  Hank hooted, "Mrs. Anderson's fine. You're the one who fainted clean away."

  Max vaulted to his feet. "I did no such thing!"

  "I'm afraid you did, Boss man," Slim was trying his best not to smile. "Although I can't say I blame you. I never birthed a baby but I've brought plenty of calves into the world. I can imagine what it must be like to deliver your own son."

  Mrs. O'Brien lifted her apron and flapped in the direction of the three men. "Will the lot of you get out of here? Miss Julie needs her rest and I'm here to see after our little one so get to bed, all of you."

  Max ran a weary hand through his hair as a derisive smile touch the corners of his mouth. "That little one has a name." Striding across the room, he scooped the baby into his arms, and held him up for Hank and Slim to see. "Gentlemen, allow me to introduce Maxwell Alvin Anderson the Third."

  In unison, the crusty cowboys nodded. Hank, who almost never removed his hat, lifted his ten-gallon topper, revealing his completely bald head. "That's quite a moniker for so small a tyke."

  Max cradled the baby in his arms. "We're going to call him Trey."

  Mrs. O'Brien intervened. "Will the lot of you get out of here? It's four o'clock in the morning. Miss Julie needs to sleep. Mr. Max could do with some rest, too."

  As Max laid the baby back in the crook of Julie's arm she wondered which was more aggravating, Mrs. O'Brien's previous disapproval or her current over-protectiveness. She was still pondering that knotty problem when she drifted off to sleep.

  Time, that linear tyrant, who had for the past several months traveled at a snail's pace, suddenly decided to race along at break-neck speed. The storm passed, leaving in its wake loss and devastation. Doctor Weatherby made the long trek to the ranch to declare both Julie and little Trey sound and healthy. Shannon and Brett took time from their busy schedule to make a flying trip to see the newest addition to the family. Shannon promptly fell in love with her baby brother. Even Brett seemed taken by the charms of little Maxwell Alvin Anderson the Third.

  As the days sped by Julie became caught up in the busy schedule of caring for her infant. Max spent long hours away from the house, dividing his time between working on the ranch and running his construction business. Twice he made trips to Dallas. Julie wondered if he was seeing Andrea. She didn't dare ask. She continued to plan for her departure from Half Moon. Knowing that each day she lingered would make it a little more difficult to say that final goodbye, she forced herself to set a definite to goal. The day Trey was six weeks old she would tell Max of her decision and then she would go. By then she would have completed preparations for her future. />
  Life at Half Moon fell into a predictable pattern. Weeks flew by, each one seeming to tread on the heels of its predecessor.

  Then one morning in early April, Julie looked at her calendar and saw that she had drawn a circle around the date. She knew all too well the reason for that circle. Trey was six weeks old today. She had planned well. A newly leased condo was waiting for her in Houston. In another month she was scheduled to begin work as the assistant manager of a large restaurant not a stone's throw from her apartment. She had arranged for day care for Trey. Those had been the easy chores. There remained now the difficult task of saying goodbye to Half Moon and its residents.

  The morning before, Julie and Trey had visited Doctor Weatherby for their final examination. The doctor had released them, saying they were both in excellent health.

  Julie had borrowed Lupe's little Ford to make the trip to Burke's Crossing. Lupe had discretely refrained from asking why Julie needed to borrow a vehicle when Max owned two cars and a pickup. She did offer to drive Julie to the appointment. Julie refused. She would soon be on her own again and this time she would really be by herself, no Royce to lean on. She needed to learn to manage her infant and her affairs alone.

  Julie gazed out the window and was awed by the splendor of the scene before her. Spring had invaded the brush country. Green grass poked from the brown earth. Flowers of every hue and color splashed a riotous rainbow of colors across the countryside. She closed her eyes. All too soon she would be leaving all this to live in a busy bustling city. It would break her heart to go. Better one swift break than a lifetime of lingering heartache.

  Julie dressed carefully for dinner. She fit nicely into the dresses she'd worn before she was pregnant. That was a pleasant and welcome surprise. Her hair was much longer now, cascading down her back like a bright flame. She fastened it back with a clasp and sighed. The task that lay ahead of her was not going to be an easy one.

  Dinner was a silent meal. Max had very little to say; once Julie caught him staring at her with the strangest look in his eyes. She wondered what he was thinking. As he finished his coffee and pushed his cup from him, Julie said, "I need to talk to you if you have time."