Montana Courage (McCutcheon Family Series Book 9)

by Caroline Fyffe

  Evelyn rolled and glanced out the window again, her eyes red from crying. The snow was still falling. Pain skittered across her face. The last contraction had only ended four minutes ago. This baby would be born soon.

  “Ohhhh. Ohhhh . . .” Her head thrashed back and forth, unequivocal fear etched on her face.

  Over the last hour, the contractions had become longer and much more intense. Evelyn’s face turned bright red, and her breath huffed quickly in and out. After what seemed like an eternity, she relaxed back on the pillows.

  “Here, drink this while you can.” Margaret held up a half-full glass of water.

  Evelyn shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. Take it.” Margaret used her no-nonsense voice. “You need to keep liquids in you.”

  “I want Chance.” Evelyn began to whimper. “Please, Margaret, I want Chance. I want Chance.” She twisted the sheet in her fingers, her eyes wild. Her face was swollen from crying and the onset of labor.

  “I know you do, sweetie, I know you do. He’s on his way. I promise. He’s coming, even through the snow.”

  “Chance,” she cried. “He needs to hurry.”

  “I don’t think so. I’ve heard first babies take a very long time to be born. We’ve only been at this a few hours. He’ll be here. He wouldn’t miss this.”

  Those words seemed to calm Evelyn, and Margaret prayed they were true. She’d like nothing better than to hand over the reins to Chance. She’d gladly pace the floor in the other room with Andy, waiting for little Holcomb to make his or her entrance into the world.

  Evelyn took a breath and lay back on her pillow, closing her eyes.

  “That’s right, you get a little rest while you can. I’m putting water on in the kitchen. I’m only a step away.”

  She brushed Evelyn’s blond hair off her slick forehead. When her goddaughter didn’t respond, Margaret realized she had actually fallen asleep.

  Margaret went into the other room but didn’t go to the water pump. Instead, she went to the table by the sofa and reached for Evelyn’s Bible. Sitting on the settee, she flipped the pages open to a random spot and began reading. The words soothed her, calmed her heart, and quieted her rapid-fire breathing.

  Please, Lord, let this baby be born effortlessly, without complication. Give me the wisdom to know what to do and how to do it when the time arrives. Please bring Chance home.

  She thought of the wolves he’d mentioned the other day. That wouldn’t happen. Feeling a little better, she got up and hurried to the kitchen, and began pumping water into a cast-iron pot.

  “Margaret!”

  Margaret almost dropped the pot. Instead, she set it on the already hot stove and rushed into the bedroom.

  Evelyn was panting as if she’d just run ten miles. “I need to push. I c-can’t stop myself. It feels good and yet it hurts.” She bore down for several long seconds, her face going white.

  Chance would not make it back before his child was born. Margaret would have to deliver the baby herself, whether she liked it or not.

  Gathering her courage, she pulled back the light sheet covering Evelyn’s large belly and assessed the situation. The towels she’d put down were stained with spots of blood. Evelyn pushed, and Margaret thought she saw a tiny crown of light-colored hair, but she couldn’t be sure.

  “Evelyn,” she said sternly. “I think you should sit up higher in the bed and bend your knees. Can we do that?”

  The contraction had stopped, and Evelyn collapsed back against her pillows.

  “Did you hear me? We must move now, before the next contraction.”

  Margaret took Evelyn’s arm and sat her forward, put Chance’s pillow behind her back, and directed her to sit upright. She helped lift one leg into a bent position, and then the other.

  Evelyn’s breathing picked up and her gaze darted around the room. “It’s coming; it’s coming?”

  “Yes. There’s no stopping this birth now.” As if there ever was. “I want you to stay calm. When the feeling overtakes you, push for all you’re worth.”

  Her lips quivering, Evelyn looked over and she nodded, although Margaret wondered if she’d actually heard anything she’d said. Soon, Evelyn was panting and moaning, and she looked like she was holding back.

  “Do you need to push?”

  She shook her head. “Almost, almost— Yes, I do now.” She grunted loudly, her face squishing, her hand wrapped around Margaret’s with a vengeance. She panted louder and then cried out. “Oh, it feels so good to push,” she yelled into the room. “So much better than fighting the pain.”

  “Good girl, just keep doing that. All will be well. All will be well.”

  Margaret hoped what she said was true. The baby born, with both he—or she—and mommy doing fine. That was the only thing Margaret could think.

  Her gaze cut to the window as pain from Evelyn’s grip on her hand almost made her cry out. Please come home, Chance. I don’t want to do this by myself.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Scott and Poppy never made it to Kathryn’s?

  The question rolled over and over in Shad’s mind as his horse struggled through the snow at a slow lope, giving Shad some speed, although he’d like more. He didn’t have a choice on pushing the animal harder than he’d like to. The temperature was dropping. Night wasn’t far off. When he found that fool Oscar Scott, he would give him what he should have the very first time the dandy had talked back. The man had no sense—and should have known better than to go out and take Poppy with him.

  And Poppy? What of her behavior? They’d spoken often of the dangers. She certainly knew better than to go out, especially with someone like her stupid friend. Scott wasn’t all to blame, no, not at all.

  As snow smattered Shad in the face, he shoved back his anger and rode on. With the wolves, anything could happen. A fear he hadn’t known since he was a young lad responsible for his brothers filled him. He didn’t like thinking something could have happened already to Poppy. He’d become fond of her in the past few weeks.

  Fond, hah. He’d fallen in love, plain and simple. Because of his injury, he couldn’t have her, but he darn well could protect her.

  He’d frightened Kathryn and Tobit to death when he’d come out looking for her sister and Scott. And poor Isaiah. The man had almost broken down and cried. Chance Holcomb and the new fella, Andy Lovell, had been there earlier, but had started home moments before he’d arrived. They’d been biding their time, waiting for the snow to stop, but finally they started back overland. Shad hadn’t waited for Tobit but mounted up and headed back to Y Knot.

  He’d check Chance’s on the way, and if he didn’t find them, he’d go straight to Klinkner’s mill, taking the shortcut behind the Biscuit Barrel. The snow-covered trail would be risky, but that was the quickest route. They’d been gone for some time now. He hoped Morgan and Brandon were searching the town.

  The livery horse slipped on a patch of ice and almost went down. Deep in thought and half-frozen, Shad hadn’t been ready and was pitched up onto the gelding’s neck, clutching the horse’s mane with his thick leather gloves. Because of the mishap, he almost missed the flicker of light that caught the corner of his eye. Surprised, he reined to a halt, turned a half circle, and rode back to the side of the road.

  A sleigh lantern tied to a Douglas fir?

  He sucked in a breath and wanted to shout with happiness. Turning his head, he listened, not hearing anything but the horse’s labored breathing and his own. The snow had thickened, closing in around him.

  A screech, and a small cry.

  “Hyah!” Plunging his mount down the embankment, he rode through the trees and snow. His horse spooked and snorted when the growls of wolves reached his ears. Shad bellowed and pulled his gun from its holster, riding all the harder.

  Poppy’s shout.

  More growling.

  A horse whinnying in fear.

  Then he saw her and a surge of pride flashed through him. The sleigh was
wedged in the trees and the horse stuck tight, still in his harness. Poppy stood at the horse’s side with a long stick, lunging at two wolves when either got too close. Scott sat in the tilted sleigh, sobbing with his hands clutching the side.

  If the wolves went toward him, Poppy lumbered through the snow and thrust her lance forward, fighting them off. She must have hit her mark at least once, because even in the dim light, Shad could see splotches of crimson marring the snow. With that much blood scent, more wolves would soon arrive.

  Aiming, he shot the one closest to the sleigh. The animal fell into the snow and the other darted off into the trees.

  “Shad,” she cried, turning toward him, her voice ringing with joy. “I knew you’d come.”

  He rode closer, keeping watch. Wolves were good jumpers and could take him out of the saddle. “You hurt?” he called when he was almost there.

  Blood smeared her face, and her clothes were sopping wet.

  “No, I’m unhurt, but Oscar hit his head in the fall. He’s bleeding from his ear.”

  Shad chanced a glance at Scott in the seat of the sleigh, wiping at tears. An eerie chorus of howls went up from nearby. Shad drew his rifle from the scabbard and handed it to Poppy before he dismounted, never taking his gaze from the circle of trees.

  “Get back in the sleigh,” he ordered, pulling back the hammer of his gun. He wanted to be ready if the wolves all rushed at once.

  “Do you have a knife?” she asked. “We can cut the harness and ride the horse out.”

  He turned, meeting her gaze for the first time. A deep longing filled him. Poppy was disheveled, wet, and blood-smeared, but beautiful in her own right. What courage. Not many men would go up against two wolves with a tree branch.

  “Yeah, I do. But I know this horse. He’s not broke to ride. As wild-eyed as he is, even I wouldn’t stay on bareback long before he bucked me off.”

  Her face crumpled as she looked at the trapped animal. “Let’s cut him loose then. So the wolves don’t get him.”

  “Not just yet. Some of the wolves might follow him, but not all. With the horse gone,” he looked at his own flighty animal, “we’d be the prime target. As it is, the horses are a distraction.”

  “What about your gunshot? Won’t others hear?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. We can’t count on that.” Grasping the cold siding, he tried to rock the sleigh to see if he could unwedge it, but it was stuck tight. “Gunshots are not uncommon. Besides, the snow muffles sound. Waiting to be rescued would be a mistake.”

  When she went to object, he held up a quieting hand and glanced back the way he’d come. If not for Scott, he’d ride out of here right now with Poppy in his arms. As it was, he wasn’t quite sure what they’d do.

  Chance and Andy were returning the way they’d previously traveled, cross-country and not on the road. If Tobit missed the lamp, how long until someone else found them? Shad had his rifle and gun, as well as some bullets, but not an overabundance. And he didn’t trust he could get all the wolves if more than a handful rushed the sleigh.

  He looked at Poppy. “Can you shoot?”

  Her teeth chattered as she hugged her arms close to her body, making him wish he could get her out of this cold.

  “I never have before, but I can learn.”

  He kept a close watch on the tree line. What should they do? The snow was coming down heavy. He didn’t want to spend the night here. He doubted they’d last until tomorrow.

  He turned to Scott, who hadn’t looked him in the eye since he’d arrived. “How’s the head?”

  The man’s gaze slowly tracked to him. “Hurts. And I’m dizzy.”

  Shad assessed the situation. Could he get them to the Holcombs’ without Scott falling off the horse? At least here, they had the sleigh for some sort of shelter. If they left and couldn’t make it, they all might freeze to death.

  “Think you can ride if I help you onto my horse?”

  “Shad, what are you planning?” Poppy asked.

  He reached out and pulled her to his side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I’ll put you both up on my horse and lead you out.”

  Poppy nudged him. “I’m sorry for being so foolish. Oscar offered to take me to Kathryn’s, and after what I told you, I was anxious to speak with her.” Sadness burned deep in her eyes. “But that’s no excuse. I should have known better.”

  “You’re right. You did know better. I told you more than a few times.” Irked, he didn’t want to let her so easily off the hook. A Montana winter was nothing to trifle with. Three lives were now at risk because of their senseless decision. “But let’s get out of this mess before you go apologizing. We have a lot of work to do. Since I’ve arrived, the forest has darkened. We don’t want to still be here tonight.”

  A falling pinecone spooked his edgy mount, making the animal snort and shy to the side.

  “Easy now,” Shad said, reaching out to touch his neck. “Scott, you never answered me. Can you stay in the saddle if the two of you ride double?”

  “I don’t have any choice. I’ll have to.”

  Poppy shook her head. “Oh, Ossy, can you ever soften up?”

  “Never mind that,” Shad bit out, “let’s get moving.” He pulled his horse closer and handed one rein to Poppy, the other still slung over the saddle horn. “Hang on for your life, because your life depends on it.”

  She nodded, her poor chapped lips bleeding in the wind.

  “Come on, Scott,” he said, stepping closer and extending a hand.

  “Now?”

  “Exactly.” Shad grasped Scott’s wrist and pulled him out of the sleigh. The man’s cries reverberated through the trees.

  A chorus of growls rippled around the area.

  Poppy sucked in a breath. “There’re so many. I had no idea.”

  “That’s why we have to move now.”

  “Shad, look.” Poppy pointed at the far tree line where three husky wolves had stepped out, watching.

  Shad didn’t waste one second. “Once I get you both on my horse, I’m cutting the gelding free. Hopefully, he’ll draw away most of the wolves. Scott, can you shoot a rifle?”

  “I’ve hunted pheasants all my life, but now my vision is much too blurry. I don’t think I can.”

  Disgusted, Shad shook his head. “Fine. Come on, Poppy, you go up first where you can shoot if need be. If any wolves come too close, just aim and fire. They’ll scatter. Be prepared, because the rifle has a strong kick. With Scott behind you, you should be okay with staying aboard.”

  She was so light, she went up easily.

  He pointed to the saddle horn. “Have you ridden, um—like a man before?”

  “A few times, yes.”

  Behind him, Scott huffed.

  She settled her skirt in the saddle, the hem pulling up the middle of her leg and her feet not reaching the long stirrups. Between her shaking hands and clattering teeth, she didn’t look very confident.

  The same couldn’t be said for Oscar Scott. The man was dead weight and wasn’t much help. On the third frustrating try, Shad had a thought to leave the troublemaker behind.

  Chapter Sixty

  “Please, Evelyn, try to push a little harder.”

  The baby had been crowning for over half an hour. Dread that something was wrong kept rolling around in Margaret’s mind. She’d only attended one other birth, and both mother and child had perished. A cold chill of fear threatened to paralyze her.

  I can’t let that happen. I must do something. Evelyn is counting on me.

  From her position at the foot of the bed, Margaret glanced at Evelyn’s face. “Did you hear me, dear?” she asked more forcefully. Evelyn’s eyes were closed, but Margaret knew she wasn’t asleep, just waiting for the next contraction to hit. They were coming every three minutes without enough time in between to fall asleep. “Evelyn?”

  “Yes, I hear you. I’m just so tired. Why isn’t the baby coming? I—I want Chance . . .”

  Margaret could hear the t
hickness in her voice and knew her goddaughter was about to resume her tears. Irritation at Chance bubbled up. She would box his ears when he finally returned. How dare he go anywhere today?

  The baby isn’t due for another month.

  “Still. That’s no excuse.” Margaret wasn’t aware she’d spoken aloud until Evelyn lifted her head at Margaret’s angry tone.

  “What?” She began to pant loudly.

  “Oh, nothing, sweetheart. This contraction, I’m telling you to push like you never have before.” She drilled Evelyn with an imposing stare. “This is it. Your baby is about to be born.”

  Evelyn couldn’t answer. She was too consumed with the contraction racking her body. With a loud groan, she bore down. Her breathing stopped and her face turned blue.

  Please, God, let this child be born now. Evelyn doesn’t have much strength left.

  If she weren’t so busy, Margaret would have sank to her knees beside the bed with hands folded. But there was no time. She put out her hands in preparation.

  With Poppy already seated in the saddle of Shad’s skittish mount, all they needed to do was pull Ossy aboard behind and then get up that hill, away from danger.

  The horse snorted, sidestepped in the snow, and then flung his head.

  “The scent of the wolves,” Shad said, almost to himself as he lifted Oscar’s leg in an effort to get his boot into the stirrup.

  Poppy held the reins with the hand that also supported the rifle, which made controlling the horse’s movement near impossible. With her other hand, she grasped Oscar’s arm, his bulky coat hampering her hold. He was heavy, unsteady, and still groggy. He wasn’t helping the situation in the least.

  If that wasn’t enough, Poppy kept her gaze fixed on the tree line. Her job was to make sure the wolves didn’t take them by surprise. Before Shad had arrived, she’d injured one of the pack with her spear. He’d been bold, slinking up close as another wolf kept her attention. At the last second, she’d spotted him only a few feet away. Plunging forward with a shriek that came out of her mouth in surprise, she’d caught the predator’s shoulder. The pointed tip of her branch had driven deep. He’d yipped and pulled back, leaving a trail of blood on the snow.