Brides of Texas

by Hake, Cathy Marie

  “I just came to grab El—”

  “You can’t leave!” She kept her voice as quiet as she could, but it cracked with terror. “I don’t know what to do!”

  “Neither do I.” Duncan gave her an appalled look. “You’re a woman. You’re supposed to be able to tend to such matters.”

  Jenny let out a long, guttural moan from the other room.

  Duncan reached past Carmen for the doorknob. “I’ll go get some help.”

  Carmen didn’t budge. “Mercy and Rob are saving lives. They’re not coming.”

  “I’ll grab someone else!” He wiped the sweat from his brow on his sleeve.

  “Who? Eliza Wagner?” From the way he swallowed hard, Carmen knew Doc had Eliza helping him. Frantically searching for any other possible prospect, Carmen asked, “What about Gertrude Besselmen or Harriet Brun?”

  Even as he shook his head, he swiped across his brow again. “Think of someone else.”

  “All of those women are busy?” The words came out in a strangled gasp.

  “Three got shot, and Connant’s dead.” As she gasped, Duncan tried for the doorknob again.

  Carmen slapped his hand away. “You’re not going anywhere, Duncan Gregor. So help me, if you try to walk out this door, your brother’s going to have another patient.”

  Rushing over to the table, Duncan practically tripped over his own feet. He grabbed the armadillo bag. “Here. Whate’er you need, ’tis in here.”

  Carmen shoved the bag back at him. “Your brother packed it. You know more about medical things than I do.”

  He shoved the bag at her. “Go tell Jenny she’ll have to wait.”

  “I’m not telling her that!” She forced the bag back into his keeping. After all, she’d never liked the stupid bag to begin with, and now it wasn’t just ugly, it was frightening.

  “I know! I’ll prop up the foot of the bed. That way, the bairn will be sliding toward her head. ‘Twill buy us some time.”

  I can’t come up with a better solution. “Do you think it’ll work?”

  “It has to.” Putting an end to their demented game of hot potato, he shoved the armadillo bag into her keeping. “I’ll get something to do the propping.”

  “Carmen!” Jenny sounded panicky.

  “I’m coming!” Carmen gave Duncan a piercing look.

  “We’re coming,” he said.

  He’d given his word. Satisfied that he’d not leave, Carmen rushed to Jenny.

  “Hurts,” Jenny cried out as she writhed on the bed. “Hurts. Hurts-hurts-hurts-hurts-hurts-hurts-hurts-hurts.”

  “Pobrecita.” Carmen grabbed a damp cloth and blotted Jenny’s face. “It’ll be over soon.”

  Duncan came in with an armload of thick books. He looked just as scared as Jenny. Just as quickly, his features altered into determination. “We’re here. Aye, we are.”

  “Duncan!” Jenny reached for him.

  Carmen blinked back tears as Duncan dropped the books. He strode to the bed and smoothed back Jenny’s hair. He didn’t say a word, but everything about him radiated loving strength.

  Jenny grabbed his hand. “Can’t do this!” Her face twisted, and for the very first time since the day she’d arrived, Jenny began to cry.

  “Ooch, lass, ’tis hard. But Carmen and I—we’ll pull you through.”

  Carmen nodded. Frantic as she felt inside, she knew Jenny needed them to be calm. For the past half hour, her prayer had narrowed down to a desperate, “Dios, ayudame. God, help me. Dios, ayudame. Dios, ayudame.” He’d sent help in the form of a cobbler who didn’t know anything more than she did—but God was faithful.

  “Hurts.” Jenny arched her back and began the heartrending chant again. “Hurts-hurts-hurts-hurts-hurts…”

  Once the contraction ended, Duncan squatted at the foot of the bed and started to gather up the books. Carmen went to help, and he muttered, “Lord, give me stones for my slingshot.” He glanced at Carmen. “I’d rather face Goliath than this.”

  “Propping up the foot of the bed won’t work,” Carmen whispered. “The pains—they’re starting to come hard and fast, just as they did for Mercy toward the very end.”

  Duncan bolted to his feet.

  Jenny let out a cry. This time she clutched Carmen’s arm with bruising force.

  Duncan pried her free and let Jenny crush his hand. When the pain was over, he murmured something nonsensical and pushed Carmen back to Jenny’s side. He picked up the books, but instead of raising the bed with them, he set them aside.

  He moved them so I wouldn’t trip.

  The last one he lifted made his brows rise and the corners of his mouth lift. As he flipped through the pages, he nodded with great satisfaction. “Instructions!”

  Whether hours or minutes passed, Carmen couldn’t say. Time seemed to stretch out for an eternity during a pain and then speed up in between. Then Jenny started to strain down.

  Duncan pointed toward the bag. “You’ll be needing that soon, Carmen.” He cupped her face between his hands. “You can do this. Aye, you can. Not only do I have faith in God, but I believe in you, too.”

  Warmth poured through Carmen. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She was. Even if he knew nothing more than she did, Carmen knew for certain nothing disastrous would happen. God and Duncan wouldn’t allow it.

  “What-is-happening?” Jenny panted.

  “Time’s short,” Duncan explained. “I’ve the instructions. I’ll read them to Carmen, and she can tend to matters.” He picked up the book and headed toward the door.

  “Don’t go!” Carmen wasn’t sure whether she’d cried the words or if Jenny had.

  “ ’Tisna proper, my being here.”

  Jenny made a funny sound. “More than a hundred men have—”

  “Nae, Jenny. You’re a new woman in Christ. Your past is forgiven and forgotten.”

  Carmen fought the urge to weep at the poignancy and mercy of his words. There wasn’t time to indulge in those feelings now. She pointed to a chair. “Pull that up by her shoulders, Duncan. I’ll need you to help with the baby.”

  Jenny started to strain down again. “Something’s”—she gasped and strained—“wrong.” She panted and strained again. “I’m all wet!”

  Duncan yanked the chair up by the bed and turned so he’d be facing the headboard. He flipped open the book and riffled through the pages as Carmen whipped back the sheet.

  “Here.” Duncan cleared his throat. “The bag most often ruptures when birth is imminent.”

  Jenny let out a low groan as she strained again.

  Carmen dumped the contents of the armadillo bag onto the bed. The scissors and strips of gauze looked daunting. “Tell me what to do.”

  Duncan pored over the book. “Hooves will appear first, with the muzzle between the forelegs.”

  Thunderstruck, Carmen still knew she couldn’t yell at him. Besides, the baby was partway out. “What about the cord?”

  Duncan turned the page. “If necessary, the mother will bi—” His voice died out.

  Chapter 14

  Carmen and Jenny exhibited grace under this ordeal, and he was blithering. Duncan cleared his throat. He couldn’t let them down. He scanned farther down the page to give Carmen useful instructions. “We’re to dry the newborn off immediately. Blankets or straw. Um, blankets.” He slammed the book shut. “You have blankets, right?”

  “Oh. Oh!” Jenny strained until she turned purple.

  “Almost there. Almost.” Awe colored Carmen’s voice. A small gurgling noise was followed by a cry. “It’s a girl, Jenny. A perfect little girl.” A minute later, Carmen handed him a blanket-wrapped bundle. “Go dry her off and diaper her.”

  Duncan took his cue from Carmen and left the bedroom. “Ooch, you wee little lassie. Dinna cry.” He gently jostled her and began to sing. “Jesus loves me, this I know…”

  Duncan calmed the babe only to have Elspeth start squalling. Since Mercy allowed her food from the table, Duncan poked through Carmen’s cupbo
ard and located molasses cookies. He ate one and gave another to Elspeth to gum.

  Boiling water filled the reservoir and three kettles on the stove. Carmen slipped out of the bedroom and took a kettle back with her.

  Determined to help as best he could, Duncan decided he’d bathe the baby. On occasion, he’d helped with Elspeth’s bath, so he pumped water into a dishpan and added enough boiling water to make it a comfortable temperature.

  Mercy rushed through the door. “How—” She stopped cold.

  “A lass, and a hefty one at that.” Duncan pulled back the blanket so his sister-in-law could inspect the babe.

  Mercy swept up Elspeth in one arm and trailed her finger across the new baby’s forehead. “She’s beautiful. How’s Jenny?”

  “Carmen’s seeing to her. I thought to tub this wee one.”

  “No. Remember when Elspeth was newborn? Just sponge her.”

  “How’re all the men doing?”

  “They’ll all pull through. I’ll go help with Jenny.”

  Duncan methodically set out the water, soap, a towel, and a diaper on Carmen’s table. He’d just started to wash the babe when Carmen joined him.

  “Mercy’s bathing Jenny and taking care of things. How’s the baby?”

  “See for yourself.”

  Carmen kept her gaze on the baby. Tears filled her big brown eyes. “Mercy didn’t say anything, but I know something bad happened.”

  Duncan kept one hand on the newborn as he slid his other arm around Carmen. “The bank was robbed. Three men were injured, and Connant Gilchrist was killed.”

  The sound of pain curled in her throat.

  Duncan nestled her closer as if to shelter her from that dreadful truth. Jenny’s baby gurgled, and he decided to redirect Carmen’s attention. “We ken Connant’s with the Almighty this verra moment. The Lord took home His boy and gave us a wee little lass at the same time. I’m thinkin’ we’d best tend to her.”

  Carmen was more of a hindrance than a help. She kept touching and smearing soap bubbles on spots he’d already rinsed. “She’s perfect. Look at her. Isn’t she beautiful?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Her grip is strong. How’s her other hand?” Carmen chuckled. “It’s fine, too. Oh, Duncan, isn’t she just perfect?”

  “She’s getting noisy.”

  “That means her lungs and heart are healthy. It’s a good sign. Oh, look at her pretty little feet!”

  Duncan listened as Carmen exclaimed over and over about the baby. Once he finished the bath, Carmen diapered the little one and swaddled her in a blanket. “It’s a shame to cover her up. She’s so…”

  “Perfect?”

  “Yes!” Carmen glowed.

  “I’d have ye tell me, would this lassie be any less worthy of love if she weren’t perfect?”

  Carmen reared back and blinked. “How could you ask such a thing?”

  “Because you keep assuring yourself that she’s hale and bonny.” Duncan led her over to the settee. He made sure she and the babe were comfortable, then dared to sit on the settee, too. It was a bold move. A man didn’t sit alongside a woman on her settee unless he had honorable and lifelong intentions.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Duncan. Anyone would love this girl. Just anyone.”

  “You’ve my most hearty agreement. She’s as sweet a miracle as I’ve e’er seen.”

  “Yes. A miracle. And sweet. Perfect.” Carmen cooed softly to the baby in Spanish.

  Lord, I’ve asked You for an opportunity to say something to Carmen. “Love doesna consider whether someone is perfect—either in body or in behavior. We’re all flawed in our own ways. Love overlooks imperfections and doesna demand that someone strive to earn a place in the heart. At least, love that is worth having.”

  “God loves like that. Men don’t.”

  He fought the desire to declare his love. He wanted an armful of flowers and carefully thought-out words. “Some men do. Just as God is able to love us even though we’re cracked vessels, we can love one another—ofttimes not in spite of those imperfections, but because of them. Think on that.” Please, think on it.

  Jenny’s room lay empty. She’d left, but just to the Stein farm. Mercy’s grandfather asked if she’d be willing to become his housekeeper. It was a happy arrangement.

  Since Rob and Mercy needed to mind the wounded, Duncan was the one who went away carrying Jenny’s babe and the dark green leather book she’d filled with her loving thoughts for the child. He’d left with tears in his eyes and returned the same way. Though he’d not reveal where he’d gone or who received the baby, Duncan repeatedly reassured Jenny and Carmen that the baby’s mother and father were wonderful, loving Christian parents.

  But the house was so very quiet. Carmen walked through it and felt so empty. The boots Duncan made for her peeped out from beneath her bed. She’d been so angry and humiliated about them, she’d shoved them out of sight. Pride kept her from saying anything to Duncan.

  It’s not in Duncan’s character to taunt someone. He sat me down and said imperfections didn’t halt love. Once he even called my limp insignificant.

  She sank to the floor and drew out the boots. I’d rather have my shoes look clumsy if it meant I wasn’t so awkward. She took off her boots. The new right boot fit wonderfully. The leather felt so soft and comfortable. But she stared at the left one. Duncan raised the sole like a platform and even angled it in such a way that it would conform to the twisted shape of her foot. The heel was stacked twice as high as the right one, too. It was ugly.

  Until she put it on.

  It fits perfectly. How could he have known how to do that?

  For the first time in years, Carmen stood and didn’t wince at the pain of putting weight on her left leg. She tried a few steps. Then another…and a few more…until the new boots carried her to Duncan’s workshop.

  A magnificent saddle rested over a frame. He stood behind it, buffing the leather until it gleamed. Every time she saw him working, Carmen noticed how his features bore the stamps of contentment and concentration. Today was no different. He happened to look up. “Hello, Carmen.”

  “You’re busy.” The last thing she wanted to do was leave, but it wasn’t right for her to take him away from his labors.

  “If e’er I’m too busy to spend time with a friend, then I’m too busy.” He set down the cloth he’d been using and motioned toward a bench.

  Would he notice how evenly she walked? Carmen slowly crossed the plank floor and sat down.

  “Mercy baked cookies last night.” Duncan carried over the beautiful mesquite bowl he treasured. Mr. Rundsdorf had made a similar one for her when she’d sewn shirts for him.

  After Carmen accepted a cookie, she raised it to her mouth and lowered it without taking a bite. “My house feels so empty.”

  “ ’Tis just you there now.”

  She stared down at the cookie and confessed, “I’m lonely, Duncan.”

  “So am I.”

  Her head jerked up. “You? How could you ever be lonely? You have a wonderful family, and everyone adores you.”

  He tapped the center of his chest. “In here, I’m lonely. Though ’tis true I’ve a fine family and many a friend, I’m in sore want of the woman I love.”

  Carmen set aside the cookie. “Jenny.”

  Duncan gawked at her. “Jenny? That wee lassie? She’s a sweet friend, but I feel no more than brotherly love for her.” Shaking his head, he drew closer. “There’s but one woman in the world for me.”

  “You’re strong and kind and good, Duncan. Handsome, too.” As soon as she’d said that, Carmen felt mortified that she’d let slip that she considered him so masculine and handsome. For some odd reason, she kept babbling, though. “Any woman would be happy to have you. Your lonely days are numbered.”

  He cocked a brow. “Are they?”

  “I’m sure they are.” Carmen blinked back tears. He deserved a fine wife. She wanted that for him. Truly, she did. But once again, the lonely li
fe stretching out ahead made her ache to the depths of her soul. “I’ll be happy to help with the wedding.”

  “That’s a fine offer, but you’ll be too busy.”

  Carmen shook her head. “No, I won’t. I’m not volunteering for everything anymore. You were right—I was trying to earn love and a place for myself in our community. Now I’m waiting on the Lord and asking Him to direct me instead of charging ahead and reminding Him the work of my hands was dedicated to Him.”

  Duncan’s rough hand slid over hers. “You’re not the only one who’s done that. It nearly shook me out of my boots when I realized I was playing that same foolish game—only ’twasna with the Almighty. ’Twas with the woman I love. I tried to win her heart by making myself indispensable.”

  “She should have been flattered. I know I would have been.”

  Duncan’s mouth tilted upward. “Nae, Carmen, you weren’t.”

  “You’re wrong, Duncan. Words can’t begin to say how thankful I am for your friendship and all the time you’ve spent helping Jenny and me. Just think of that day when we took that walk and filled your wheelbarrow with wildflowers. And what about the picnics? I could go on for hours reciting things we’ve done and times we’ve agreed to pray about something. Don’t you think for one minute that I don’t appreciate you—and not just for the things you’ve done—”

  The way he trailed a finger down her cheek silenced her.

  “Carmen”—he stared into her eyes—” ’tis you I love.”

  His words hovered in the air. Carmen couldn’t tear her gaze from him. Heat shot through her. “But I’m a cripple.” As soon as she finished her mortifying confession, she rushed to add on, “But I’m wearing those beautiful boots you made for me. I barely limp at all in them. Did you notice?”

  “Nae. And why should I? ’Tis an insignificant thing, and if all that matters to a man is how his woman walks or dresses or cooks, then he’s a pathetic wretch. You’re beautiful from the top of your raven black hair to the tip of your turned-in toes, Carmen Rodriguez. Most of all, you’re beautiful on the inside.”