“Don’t you want to be in there?” Though it was Dex’s wife and not his, not knowing what was happening behind that door made him jittery.
Dex shook his head. “She don’t want me, so I ain’t pushing. Nor fretting.” He poked his blade at Everett. “Why don’t you stop worrying for me?”
Rachel’s voice screamed, “Dex!” followed by other unintelligible words.
Everett pushed himself against the back of his chair. “I couldn’t do it.” He leaned forward, hoping Julia would come out and order him to do something. “I won’t be able to sit calmly outside while my wife calls for me.”
Dex’s eyebrows rose.
“Not like I’ll be experiencing that anytime in the near future.” He huffed. “I’m just rambling.”
Dex’s knife went back to its even slicing tempo. “I don’t mean to say I don’t want to be in there, but at this time in a woman’s life, you let her have what she wants. I’ll know if she yells my name in a way I shouldn’t ignore, but with Emma, I thought I was answering a beckon only to get a sound tongue-lashing for coming in and getting in the way.” He chuckled. “No, I’ll stay right here as of yet.”
A groan and a cry from the bedroom tore at Everett’s heartstrings, but he took his cue from Dex and sat still in his chair.
He’d borne Julia’s anguish through her fever and broken leg. Borne the suffering as if it were his own. And it was his own; he’d been the cause of it. He didn’t know whether he or she suffered more—her leg and body, his heart and guilt—all had been on fire and writhing. But God saw them through. Every previous desire for his marriage had been selfish, so he threw himself into praying and nursing with no one but Julia in mind.
If only God had seen fit during her suffering to birth her anew. But she was confused and wary when he spoke of how the Lord saw her through the agony. His ascribing her recovery to God made her uneasy, as did any talk of his faith.
God would have to save her and heal her past hurts before his marital situation would turn around. His past kindnesses and romantic attentions had not been enough.
Between Rachel’s cries he prayed for two births: the easy birth of a Stanton baby and the rebirth of Julia’s soul. Sudden quiet snapped him from his prayers. Julia’s tense, worried voice, though hushed, captured his ears.
Should they wait or rush in to assist? Surely he’d be useless to the women in the other room. Dex sat, gripping the edge of his seat, but remained cemented to his chair. So Everett held on to the arms of his and prayed for a healthy wee one.
The infant’s blue face gulped soundlessly. The air rushed from Julia’s lungs as she dropped onto the side of the bed, firmly cradling the little girl.
“You can do it, Julia. You need to do it.”
Mimicking Rachel’s actions with the Hampden baby, she swiped the baby’s mouth, then patted and rubbed vigorously until the little girl took in a shuddering breath, followed by a muffled cry. The vestiges of panic disappeared from every muscle in her body, and she suddenly felt as weary as Rachel probably felt.
She wrapped the child and took even, deep breaths. “You’ve got a girl, Rachel. A beautiful girl.” She ran her finger down the baby’s plump cheek before handing the bundle to her mother, who promptly suckled the infant.
Rachel yawned while taking her first peep at her daughter. “So tired.”
Julia shook her head. “Ten hours of hard work when you should be sleeping would make a body so.”
“Oh, that was nothing.” Rachel wiped at the whitish-blue fingers curled around hers. “William took twenty.”
Julia didn’t want to think about how crazy she would have gone helping Rachel through a whole day of labor. “Have you picked a name?”
“Suppose we ought to have Dex come in and talk about that.” Rachel smiled. “Let me finish feeding her, then you can wash her up.”
Julia tensed. “I haven’t bathed a baby before.”
“It’s not difficult. Take a rag with warm water and wipe her off so she’s not so messy.” She jiggled the baby since she’d stopped nursing. “Just keep the towel on the parts you aren’t washing to keep her from catching cold.”
Staring at the tiny form curled on top of her mother, Julia bit her lip. “I can’t believe you’d entrust her to me. I don’t know why you even wanted me here after what happened with Kathleen. . . .”
Rachel smiled lazily, not taking her eyes off her infant daughter. “I knew I’d be here for the whole thing, so you wouldn’t be alone, and William could be called in if anything major went wrong. But the longer you stay afraid of birthing, the worse things will be when your time comes. You’ve got maternal instincts somewhere in there. You got her to breathe, didn’t you? They’ll show up for a simple bath.”
“I hope so. I won’t use them otherwise.” She slumped onto the mattress beside mother and baby.
Rachel clucked. “Come now, you’ve only been married four months. I didn’t get pregnant with William until we were wed for a little more than a year. Be patient. It will happen if the good Lord wills. On His timetable, not yours.”
“Well, that’s not exactly it.” Heat crept into her face, and Rachel arched her brows. The color in her cheeks must be high. “There’re other reasons I’ll never have children.”
Rachel remained quiet as she rewrapped her sleeping daughter, but her eyes made Julia want to voice every secret, every confusion, every hope, every fear.
But how could she tell her everything? “Now’s not the time to engage in such a discussion.”
“Oh, yes it is.” Rachel glanced around the room and whispered, “This will be one of the few times we have alone. As soon as you step through that door, the family will no longer consider this room sacred ground. We won’t be able to speak about delicate matters for some time.”
Julia smoothed the baby’s matted hair, amazed she lay sleeping so soon after coming into the world. “Are all babies this quiet?”
“No, Ambrose cried for eight hours straight, but don’t let this babe’s first day fool you. Emma slept her first day away, and then she showed her true colors.” Rachel groaned. “I need your help again. Just lay her in the bassinet.”
Julia helped clean Rachel after the birth, guided her into a new gown, and fixed the bedding. She headed for the baby’s cradle. “I’ll take her to Dex. I bet he’s quite anxious by now.”
“Julia.” Rachel grabbed her arm. “Talk to me.”
Sighing, she looked toward the window, but didn’t really see through it. A vision of her mother’s last seconds on earth, lying in a bed surrounded by the blood of her last failed attempt at childbirth, and the cold blue face of her last sibling in her arms haunted Julia. “It’s just that Mother had so much difficulty having children. I shouldn’t awaken the desire for them.”
“That doesn’t mean it will be the same for you.”
Tears pushed at the back of her eyes. “No, it doesn’t, but it seems likely. My grandmother only birthed two live children. Plus, I don’t think Everett and I will ever be . . . that close.”
Rachel snorted.
She frowned. “What’s that mean?”
“Means I’ve never seen Everett so smitten in my life.”
But would Everett still feel anything for her if he knew everything? She crossed the room and took her time wrapping her arms about the baby. “I’m not sure his feelings are anything beyond attraction to a pretty face. And guilt.”
“Why would he feel guilty?”
How had she let that slip? She sat on the bed next to Rachel. “Um, it was Everett’s fault I fell off the roof.”
Rachel’s eyebrows fell until her eyes were tiny slits. “There’s no way that man carried you up to the roof and threw you off.”
“No, I was up there on my own. But when he kissed me—”
“So he kissed you?” Rachel’s face was smug.
“Yes. He scared me so much I backed up and fell off.” She rubbed her leg where it still felt numb.
“I’m sure
the accident would bother him, but you have absolutely nothing to be afraid of. The man’s in love with you. For more than your looks.” Rachel chuckled. “You weren’t anything nice to look at after that tumble off the roof, and that didn’t faze him.”
Tightness gripped her chest. She hugged the baby closer and looked at Rachel through her tears. “But I’m afraid. Afraid I’m just a pretty face like everyone says. That he . . . that he’s only feeling what he feels because I’m nice-looking and under his roof, but when he discovers the real me . . . what happ—” She shook her head. “To be used for a while and then cast off . . .” She sniffed and wiped at her tears. “I couldn’t handle it.”
Rachel’s thumb rubbed circles on her elbow. “I know Everett, honey. He isn’t solely interested in your looks. I’m sure your gorgeous face enthralls him, but to be attracted to one’s spouse is a good thing. And as for being used, that’s not at all what it feels like when a man in love with you holds you in his arms. Where would you get such an idea?”
“I don’t know.” She couldn’t tell Rachel that she knew exactly what it felt like. It probably wasn’t the same with a man who loved the woman he caressed, but the control Theodore had wielded was not something she could easily forget. She needed to erase every memory of the time Theodore had forced her into his arms and bury the feelings so they couldn’t ruin her life anymore. But how many times had she tried and failed?
And could she be certain Everett would still care about her if he learned about Theodore . . . about everything?
And Everett might love her, but what if she couldn’t love him? “If I don’t yet love him . . .”
“Love will come, honey. I doubt the Lord brought you two together in such a convoluted manner to make you unhappy for the rest of your lives, but you’re bent on being miserable. Why not go forward and see how the heavenly Father wants to bless you? It’s not good to be together yet separate.”
The baby wriggled in Julia’s arms. “I better go tell your daddy you’re here.”
Rachel nodded. “I suppose you should. I’ll pray for you. But you shouldn’t be letting your past define who you are or how much you’re worth. Look to God and through the eyes of Everett. That’s where you’ll find your worth.”
Julia stared at the peaceful girl in her lap. Maybe Everett would find her worth something. But God? She didn’t have anything of value to capture His attention. Could a heavenly Father think more highly of her than her own father did?
Julia took a deep breath and considered the little charge in her hands in need of a bath and Rachel, eyes closed, resting. There wasn’t time to fix her whole life right now; it was time to be productive.
———
The bedroom door opened and Everett leaned forward, as did Dex. Julia walked out, her face grim, a bundle of cloths in her arms. Did she hold a dead infant? They had been quiet too long, and no newborn cry announced the presence of a living child.
Everett reached over and gripped Dex’s arm, letting him know he was there.
Julia pulled the blanket away from a baby’s face. Her mouth twitched into a tiny smile. “Rachel needs you to help her decide on a name for your little girl.”
Dex shot up from his chair. “Do you mean . . . you mean she’s all right?” He glanced toward the bedroom door.
“Both of them are fine. Tired, but beautiful.”
Pulling back the blankets and exposing thick black hair, Dex caressed his daughter’s head, pressed a light kiss to her forehead, then rushed through the couple’s bedroom door.
Julia took a deep breath and spoke to the baby. “It’s time we got you clean.”
Everett jumped from his chair. How could he help? “Do you need hot water?”
She smiled. “That water right there will do. This cabin’s like an oven anyway. I’m sure the water’s warm enough.”
Moving to the window, he unlatched it. “I’ll let the heat out.”
“No. Wait.” Julia glanced at the baby. Would that be a good idea? “Maybe we should wait until I’ve bathed her. Rachel said something about keeping her covered so she doesn’t chill.”
Everett let go of the latch. “All right.”
“Where are the kids?” They’d be excited to see their baby sister, but then again, they might get in the way of the bath. She didn’t need an audience watching her fumble through a simple procedure.
“We sent them to play in the barn hours ago.” Everett grabbed the bucket of water and held it up in question.
Where should she do this? Grabbing a few rags and towels, she created a nest on the kitchen table. “Put the water here. I’m just supposed to wipe her to get the blood and white stuff off.”
“Glad you know what you’re doing.”
She turned to give him a crazy look, but he was too close. She recognized the smell of his sweat, which did weird things to her heart, knowing such intimate details about the man. Yet she still felt so far from him. Not from a lack of trying on his part. Could she let down her guard, allow him in a bit? “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
He locked eyes with her for a few seconds before returning his attention to the baby.
Gingerly, she unwrapped a body part, then washed and rewrapped it before uncovering a new spot. He moved closer. Was he as afraid that her trembling hands would hurt the baby as she was? Why must he make her more nervous with his nearness, watching over everything she did? He was not helping.
“Seems you’re quite capable.” The hot air of his words caressed her neck, causing a shiver to rush down her spine.
The baby had not awoken once, just flinched and pulled in her limbs when treated to the damp rag. Julia wrapped the infant and picked her up. She should return her to her mother.
Everett’s breath tickled her ear. “Maybe we should try having one?”
She clasped the baby to keep from dropping her. Everett’s eyes were the color of wet steel. Had he overheard her conversation with Rachel? Tightening her grip, she pulled in a shaky breath. Her vision glazed over. What if she overcame her fear of intimacy but was unable to give him a child? Julia stared at Everett, unable to form a response.
His face went blank. He took a step back, made a faint bow, and left the cabin.
Her heart’s thumping stole her concentration as she attempted to clean up the bathing mess. The way his face drooped tugged at her emotions. She continued to hurt him though she wanted to make him happy, but how could she do so adequately when she wasn’t happy with herself? If he knew of her past, what was so dark inside, would he still love her?
“I don’t think so,” she whispered to the baby.
Chapter 24
Everett helped Julia down from the wagon, letting his hands linger at her waist longer than necessary. Of course, she probably didn’t notice through all the fabric and boning. She looked him in the eyes before she ducked her head and headed into the Stantons’ cabin. The incessant crying of little Rebecca ripped through the lifeless late-summer air. On her first day of life, she’d lulled him into believing babies were sleeping angels, but the many times they’d visited these past two weeks swiftly changed his mind.
John burst from the house, hands clasped around his ears. He ran toward Everett. “Save me! Take me fishing. Anything.”
The sun directly overhead was busy pouring buckets of heat. “There’s no shade at the pond and probably no fish crazy enough to surface.”
“But there’s no screaming there. Just fish. And they don’t make a sound.”
If Everett went with John, he’d be comfortable. He’d know what to do—cast, wait, catch. Yet his wife’s presence in the cabin drew him. He couldn’t observe her fluid movements or listen to her melodious voice from the pond. But he didn’t know what to do with her in the least. She’d been friendlier since the baby was born, but she’d also increased the amount of choring she did. He couldn’t make her understand she didn’t have to make up for months of bed rest—that they should relax and enjoy each other’s company.
“Please.” John folded his hands in front of him. Another scream wafted out the door.
He must be lovesick to contemplate returning to the cabin on purpose. He patted John’s head. “Let me make sure it’s all right with your ma and pa.”
“Oh, it is. It is! Ma just told me to find somewhere else to be.”
Everett suppressed a chuckle. “I’m still going to make sure.”
John shrugged his shoulders and then ran to the barn. He turned around to yell, “I’m getting the fishing stuff ready.”
Everett walked into the cabin and let his eyes adjust to the interior. The screams reverberated off the walls. He shook his head, amazed that the noise of such a tiny thing could be so loud. Rachel stood in the middle of the kitchen, twisting back and forth, bouncing the baby at the same time. She gave him a weary frown. “Sorry, she’s not in a mood for entertaining company.”
He pulled off his hat. “Not here to be entertained.”
Julia was already attacking a pile of dirty dishes. She had finished her own chores that morning at high speed to rush here and do more. He was proud of how hard she worked, though at home he wished she’d let up a bit. Compared to her, he looked like a loafer for trying to sneak in a few minutes of conversation. He wished he could pull her away right now, but his friend needed her help more than he needed Julia’s time. “John’s wondering if I would take him to the pond.”
Rachel swiped at the hair in her face. “What did you say?”
Everett raised his voice to match little Rebecca’s. “John wants to go to the pond.”
Rachel grimaced. “Julia, would you mind holding Rebecca for a few minutes?”
Julia wiped her hands on a towel and took the infant with no hesitation. He was sure at least a frown would have crossed his face if he’d been handed that squalling bundle. She’d make an excellent mother. If only that day would come.
Rachel led him out the door, but she kept walking toward the fence. He strolled behind her, taking his time so she’d have the longest break she wanted for answering such a simple question.
A Bride for Keeps Page 24