I am Mrs. Jesse James

by Pat Wahler

  Finally, when Jesse said he’d found a place that pleased him, I stared, wondering if he meant it, and then I wondered even more what another move might bring. “Are you sure?”

  “It’s a nice place near Hyde’s Ferry Road outside Nashville. It’ll do for us.”

  “When do we leave?”

  “Tomorrow. And there’s one other thing.” He straightened his jacket. “Frank and Annie will be living right next door.”

  “What?” I swallowed to keep from bursting into tears of happiness.

  “I’ve been waiting to surprise you. Frank and I thought you and Annie would be good company for each other.”

  “That’s the best news I’ve had in months,” I told him. “It’ll be so wonderful to live near our own kin again.”

  He smiled, and my heart lifted higher. On the day Ben and Fannie Woodson welcomed Dave and Josie Howard as their new neighbors, Annie and I clung to each other and smiled through teary eyes.

  Jesse shook Frank’s hand and seemed lighter in spirit, as though a heavy load had been lifted from his back. I supposed he must have been as lonely for Frank as I’d been to have the people I loved near me.

  Together again, Frank and Jesse spent time going out in the evening to play faro, and during the day, they visited the horse track. Jesse bought another bay mare named Red Fox and entered her in a race. One day, Annie and I went to the track to watch the mare run. We both placed small bets, sure she would win.

  The scent of horses, manure, and sweat surrounded us as we squeezed to the front of a large crowd of spectators. Flags waved in the breeze and people elbowed each other to find the best spot to stand. Annie and I stood alone, as our husbands were busy giving last-minute instructions to the rider Jesse had hired.

  We watched as six beautiful long-legged horses were ridden onto the track. They lined up, prancing with eagerness, until a shotgun fired to start the race. I jumped at the sound, and the steeds galloped hard, their hooves flinging dirt everywhere. Several of the animals fell behind right away, but Red Fox ran neck and neck with another horse at the head of the pack. I grabbed Annie’s arm and squealed when, just before the finish line, Red Fox edged ahead to win by a nose. We jumped up and down, hugged each other, and laughed. With the money we won, we treated our husbands to a grand celebratory dinner.

  A few weeks later we were eating supper when Jesse suddenly pushed away his plate. “I can’t believe it. Frank wants to start farming.” He shook his head at me as though dumbfounded. “He must have inherited Ma’s love of putting a plow to the ground. I can’t understand how such a common job that takes so long to pay off could possibly appeal to him.”

  I shrugged. “Yet I’ve never seen Frank happier. Annie says he’s started to read Shakespeare again, as he used to do when they first met. I understand Charles Eastman offered him a job.”

  Charles and Polly Eastman lived on a farm nearby. Frank had become friendly with them, walking over in the evening to sit on their front porch and talk. They were generous people, sharing produce from their garden and apples from an enormous orchard behind their house. Polly had invited Annie and I to help her put up apple butter in the fall.

  Like Frank, I’d grown content with our new life. I didn’t think I could be happier, until the day came when I learned we would have another baby. I confided my secret to Annie before saying a word to my husband.

  She took my hands and laughed. “What a strange coincidence. I was going to tell you Frank and I are expecting a baby, too. Our children can grow up together and be the best of friends.”

  I hugged her, and a tear slid from my eye. “I’m so happy for you, Annie. You’ve waited a long time. I suppose this is the sort of thing we can count on when our husbands stay home, rather than a kiss and a wave. Gone away again.”

  Annie blushed at my meaning. I’d come from a large household and wanted for Tim the same happiness I found in having many brothers and sisters.

  As the months passed, our bellies swelled. We counted weeks on our fingers and concluded we both should have our babies early in 1878. Unlike my first experience, I now knew what to expect and could help Annie with her questions. We giggled over the idea of our children coming on the same day and hoped they would be as close as Frank and Jesse had always been.

  With this pregnancy, my belly grew much faster than it had before. I went to Dr. Montgomery, and he tutted about a second baby showing earlier than the first. But when my stomach blossomed larger than Annie’s, I thought it strange. I didn’t remember being so big even by the time Tim was born.

  Jesse showed me nothing but his kind and gentle side, eyes sparkling over the thought of another child. Now more than two and a half years old, Tim placed his small hands on my stomach, and I told him he would soon have a fine surprise. “We’re getting you a baby brother or sister.”

  He listened to me, eyes wide and serious. “Alice?”

  I smiled at him, knowing he referred to Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. I’d started reading the story to him at night. “Maybe an Alice. Or you might get a brother.”

  I had to admit to myself that I liked the idea of a little girl. My mother had passed away in Kansas City the previous summer, during the height of the hunt for Jesse after Northfield. I hadn’t been able to risk going to Harlem and a pain in my chest swelled to know we’d never mended our relationship. A daughter of my own would give me a second chance to nurture the bond between a mother and daughter.

  Winter soon brought a heavy chill that didn’t leave. Every time I opened the door, my breath appeared in frosty clouds. Annie and I contented ourselves by sitting together before a roaring fire, knitting small caps and blankets to keep our babies warm, while Frank and Jesse amused themselves at faro games.

  My increasing bulk prompted Dr. Montgomery to advise that I rest as much as possible, so Annie came over to pass the time with me. My stomach had stretched to such proportions, it tingled. I couldn’t rise from a chair without help. The doctor thought my baby could come at any time, yet on February 6, it was Annie, not me, who doubled over with pain.

  I sent word for Charles Eastman to find Frank and fetch Dr. Montgomery. Polly Eastman came to stay with us and watch Tim. She and I helped Annie into a cot next to our bed as pains gripped her.

  “How can I stand this? I feel I’m being ripped in half.”

  “I know it hurts, but this is the torment a woman must endure to have a child,” I said. “Think of how much you love Tim and know this pain will bring a sweet baby of your own.”

  She nodded, and perspiration dotted her forehead despite the cold air outside. By the time Dr. Montgomery arrived with his new partner, Dr. Gould, her pains were coming harder. Annie thrashed her head from side to side and cried out, but her labor progressed much faster than mine had.

  She pushed her baby into the world just before Frank arrived home, rushing into the room to meet his new son. His face glowed when he kissed Annie, and tears rolled down his cheeks. I ducked my head and hurried from the room, overcome at being privy to such an intimate scene.

  Dr. Montgomery soon came out and spoke to me, his face grave. “Mrs. Howard, I must order you to rest. You have grown to a size that worries me.” He took my hands and looked at them. “Do you see how swollen your fingers are? There are signs your delivery may be complicated. When your time comes, I believe it will be wise to have Dr. Gould with me to assist.”

  Annie had protested vehemently to my offer that she stay with us. She insisted on going home, so Frank carried her there, followed by Polly with the baby. I went to my room and lay down. I knew I’d been pushing myself harder than I should, and the stress brought on by helping with Annie’s delivery had exhausted me.

  Jesse came into our room and took my hand. “The doctor is worried. He talked of doing something to force the baby’s birth if he doesn’t come soon.”

  The thought made me shiver. “I don’t think that will be necessary. We must be patient. The baby will come when he’s ready.”

&
nbsp; But I did follow the doctor’s orders to stay in bed. Polly and another neighbor, Louise Brandell, helped Annie with the baby and took Tim with them during the day so I could rest.

  Within two weeks, Annie was strong enough to leave her bed. She brought the baby, who Frank had named Robert, to me so I could coo over his perfect features. Robert fussed and kicked his small legs. Annie watched me holding him and her face seemed more pensive than usual.

  “I’m worried about him, Zee. The doctor says he’s not getting enough milk from me.”

  “It’s always hard at first. In the beginning, I struggled with feeding Tim, too. Sometimes it takes longer than we’d like for everything to work out.”

  She sighed and ran a finger over Robert’s perfect cheek. “I hope you’re right.” We soothed each other with talk of babies until time for Annie to go. She wrapped Robert in a thick white blanket that I’d knitted for him and waved to me. Just as she reached the door, I cried out.

  “Wait! My pains have started.” I took a panting breath.” Jesse’s in the barn. I think you’d better have him go for the doctor.”

  Her mouth gaped. She put the baby’s blanket over his face, and raced out the door. Another pain hit just before Jesse bounded into the room, rubbing his hands on his pants.

  “Is it very bad yet?”

  “The pain is coming, but it seems different than before.” I floundered, helpless to explain the strange waves of contractions that rippled over my body.

  “Annie’s getting Polly. I’ll go for the doctor as soon as they get here.”

  Within minutes, Annie and Polly trotted into the room, puffing from the effort. Jesse kissed me, his face tight with anxiety, before he left. Annie wiped my forehead and spoke with a gentle voice whenever the worst pains hit. After what seemed like hours of misery, Dr. Montgomery and Dr. Gould came into the room with Jesse. They shooed him away, and he backed out the door, eyes clouded, the armpits of his shirt damp.

  Dr. Montgomery prodded at my stomach, while I bit my lip to keep from screaming. “I can’t seem to push the baby out. Please, I’m so tired.”

  “Hold on, Mrs. Howard. The baby might be breech. I need to see if we need to turn him or if forceps will be necessary.”

  Dr. Montgomery probed my body while Annie held my hand. A part of my mind quaked at the idea of forceps, compelling me to summon every bit of strength I possessed. On the next cramp, I pushed and pushed, and the baby finally slid out.

  Dr. Montgomery held up the child. “It’s a boy, but he’s small.”

  Annie took the baby to clean him. I waited for the welcome respite I remembered after Tim’s birth, but the pain didn’t stop. Waves of cramping came again. I bit my lip until I tasted blood.

  “Something is wrong.” Dr. Montgomery said as he bent to examine me. After a moment, he looked up at Dr. Gould and then at me. “There’s a reason you’re still having contractions. Another baby is coming.”

  Between my agony and the shock of his statement, I couldn’t respond. He talked quietly, telling me when to push and when to rest. Finally, my body expelled the second baby and, like a blessing, the paroxysms left me.

  “It’s another boy.”

  The pain subsided, and I moved my head to see the babies while Dr. Montgomery tended to me. One lay bundled at my side. Dr. Gould examined the other.

  Dr. Montgomery smiled down at me. “You did a fine job, Mrs. Howard. I’ll bring your husband in to see what miracle has been wrought here.” He laid one infant in my right arm while Annie put the other in my left. They were small—much smaller than Tim had been.

  Jesse crept into the room as though he’d arrived on sacred ground. His dazed expression brought a weary smile to my face. “Twins. I can’t believe it.”

  I looked at the tiny, perfectly formed faces. One slept peacefully while the other squinted in a way so like my papa that I laughed out loud.

  Jesse shook his head. “I’m nearly speechless. How did you manage such a thing?”

  “They came from us both, and God must have intended it to be so. You always told me you wanted many children. I guess we’re getting a good start.”

  Dr. Gould stood over me, observing the infants. He frowned, and called to Dr. Montgomery. “These babies don’t look as pink as they should.”

  “Bring them over here,” Dr. Montgomery said. Dr. Gould whisked them from my arms. Jesse stared, and I twisted my head to watch. A shiver shook me.

  Dr. Gould spoke softly, but not so quietly that I couldn’t hear him say, “Their breathing is feeble.”

  “What’s wrong?” My voice rose until it broke, and Jesse put his hand on my arm to steady me.

  Dr. Gould spoke from where he and Dr. Montgomery labored, ever more frantically, over the babies. “You must understand how it is with twins. They compete to grow.”

  Tears streamed down my cheeks. The doctors bent over the bed where my babies lay. They massaged tiny naked bodies with so much vigor, the collars of their shirts grew damp. Annie and Mrs. Eastman sponged my skin, but their pale faces and soft words were lost as I strained to hear what the doctors said to each other.

  It seemed a very long while before Dr. Montgomery came to me, his eyes grim. He took my hand. By that time, I had no more tears left to shed.

  27

  The room smelled of sickness and blood and sorrow. The doctors said I could hold the babies for as long as I wished. Nestling them in my arms, I studied their tiny eyes, noses not even the size of a small button, and rosebud mouths, trying to memorize each feature. They looked as though they were asleep, and so similar to Tim when he was born, I wondered if the doctors were mistaken. Surely at any moment I would see some movement and they both would open their eyes and begin to breathe again.

  Dr. Montgomery patted my arm and spoke of God’s will. Dr. Gould described the extra difficulties with multiple-birth babies. Annie held my hand and cried as though it had been her own little one taken away. Jesse stared at the floor with hooded eyes like he’d encountered a battle he had no idea how to fight.

  Tears weren’t enough to allay a sorrow as deep as this. I remembered my parents, burying three babies not long after they were born, and felt a new respect for the stoic way they had returned to daily life. Then there were the other times when the voices of children born to family or friends were stilled by the gray hand of death. I’d been among those who brought food and spoke words of comfort to grieving parents. For them, life would never be the same again. Why must such a terrible price be paid by innocents?

  When the doctors pressed me, I kissed each of my babies good-bye. Dr. Gould handed me a glass of water, into which he’d mixed a strong dose of laudanum to bring the peace of sleep.

  Before I drank it, I clutched Jesse’s hand. “They must have names before we bury them.” I thought for a moment. “Montgomery and Gould. For the doctors who tried so hard to save them.”

  “Yes, sweetheart. Whatever you want is fine with me.”

  The next day, our babies were buried. I insisted on a single pine box no bigger than my footstool, for I couldn’t bear the thought of them being under the ground alone. Jesse, Frank, and Annie went to the cemetery. I stayed at home, too weak and sick at heart to ask permission from the doctors to leave my bed.

  Polly Eastman brought food and offered to keep Tim until my strength returned.

  “Thank you,” I told her. “I won’t forget your kindness.” Neighbors stopped by to comfort me. I spoke only enough to make the correct reply and accept their awkward condolences. It didn’t matter what anyone said. My babies were gone and I sensed the tendrils of darkness hovering around my bed like living things. Wild animals that waited to devour me.

  When Polly brought Tim to see me, I couldn’t rouse myself enough to respond with more than a silent, detached hug, but Jesse wrapped his arms around his son.

  “I’ll take him outside to the barn.”

  I nodded and turned my head away.

  Over the next few days, my comfort lay in the few drop
s of laudanum that brought a dreamless sleep. It shielded my mind like a heavy curtain blotted out light. Jesse helped me to sit in a chair by the bed for a while each day and I stared out the window. It didn’t help to see the sun, for the pull of something dark and sinister threatened to swallow me.

  A week later, Annie came to see me. She held Robert, who she’d bundled against the cold of an early March day. “I’m so sorry to bother you, Zee, but I’m frantic and need your advice.” Her lip trembled, and her cheeks were pale.

  Seeing her baby made me wince. I longed for the comfort brought by laudanum, but roused myself enough to say, “What is it?”

  “I’ve tried and tried with Robert. He wails from hunger, yet I cannot do much to help him. Frank refuses to hire a wet nurse. He thinks it could bring danger into our home. Dr. Montgomery says he’s seen cases where boiled cow’s milk can be given to an infant. Do you know how this is done?”

  I pulled the tatters of my wits about me to think. “Some people use a rag dipped in milk for the baby to suck. Others use a spoon to trickle liquid into the infant’s mouth. I’ve heard of rubber nipples attached to a bottle, but I’ve never seen one.”

  Robert began a weak, mewling cry.

  Annie looked as though she might cry too. “He’s so hungry, yet I can’t help him.”

  I heard the baby, but had to close my eyes against the sight of a living child. It seemed too much to bear. I wanted Annie to take Robert away from me, so I could erase the sound of his cries with more laudanum. The pitiful wailing continued and got louder, more frantic. Then something happened in my battered body—an unmistakable tingling pressure in my breasts.

  My eyes opened. “Give him to me.”

  Annie stared. “What?”

  “Give him to me. I can feed him.”

  I untied the bodice of my gown and took the baby from Annie. The infant turned his head toward me, rooted, then latched. At first hesitant, then more eager, he suckled. The cramping pull from my womb was almost painful, but the baby ate as though he’d been long starved. I looked down at him and touched his soft cheek, my tears falling in silent drops. I cried for Robert and for my own babies. I cried for Jesse and for Tim and for myself. Yet as others had done before me, I had to move on with life.