A Midwife Crisis

by Lisa Cooke

  “I’m Katie Napier.” She offered her hand, and he wished she hadn’t. This tiny woman was the local healer and chances were they were going to do battle. Touching her made it more personal somehow. He shook her hand feeling like a boxer who’d just entered the ring. Only his opponent didn’t realize that a battle had been joined.

  “Pleased to meet you,” he said, but time would tell on that.

  “Katie?” One of the men by the stove spoke to her. “You got anything for a cough? My boy’s been coughin’ somethin’ fierce.”

  “Sure, Tom. Just come up to the house, and I’ll give you some comfrey.”

  Another jumped in, “Ida’s due any day now. You going to be around? I don’t want to deliver that baby myself.”

  The other men laughed.

  “I don’t think she’d want that either, though with this being her ninth child, she could probably deliver it herself,” Katie said with a smile.

  John listened, unable to believe his ears. The men were firing questions at Katie, asking for help with him standing right there. Hadn’t these people been paying attention?

  “I’m a doctor,” he said, raising his voice above the din.

  The room suddenly went silent. All eyes shifted to him as if he’d just turned purple. “I have an office down the street, and I’d be happy to help any of you.”

  He faced Katie. “Not saying that you don’t do a fine job. I’m sure you do, but I’m a trained medical doctor.” He looked back at the men. “From Harvard.”

  Still silent.

  Finally the one she’d called Tom cleared his throat. “I’m sure you’re a fine doctor.” The other men mumbled agreeing comments, nodding their heads with much more zeal than the situation merited.

  “Well,” he said, hoping for a brilliant comment to suddenly pop into his head. “I’ll look forward to seeing your son in my office.” It wasn’t brilliant, but it would do.

  “Sure, Doc.” Tom nodded and John felt better about his situation.

  Coming to the store had been a good idea, and now that he was no longer a stranger, the recent lack of patients should end. Obviously the people around here were in need of medical attention or they wouldn’t be relying on a countrywoman and her bag of voodoo medicine. He’d better return to his office and prepare for his new patients…or adjust another diploma. At least he could be assured there were plenty of those.

  Chapter Two

  “What do you think is wrong?” Grandpa didn’t like the turn this conversation had taken. Grandma had that look in her eye like something needed done, and the last thing he wanted to do was something.

  “I think Katie’s getting tired of doing all the work around here,” Grandma said, settling into her rocker by the fireside.

  “What makes you think that?” His son-in-law, Katie’s pa, propped his feet up on the hearth, his large belly rolling over the top of his pants as he scratched his chin whiskers. Gil wasn’t a bad sort, and when it came to being worthless, none was better, but solving problems wasn’t one of his gifts.

  “Well…” Grandma set her rocker in motion while she contemplated the question. “Haven’t you noticed lately how she’s gettin’ behind on her chores? The laundry’s piling up, she ain’t canned near enough to last through the winter, and this morning, she didn’t even bring me my tea.” She harrumphed. “A woman on her deathbed can’t even get tea.”

  “You ain’t in your bed. Can’t you get your own tea?” Gil asked, proving Katie had gotten her brains from her mother.

  The rocker stopped and Grandma glared. “I can’t be expected to stay in bed all the time. Even a dying woman needs to get up now and agin’.”

  Grandpa threw a glance in Gil’s direction. He’d better shut up now before Grandma skinned him. She’d worked real hard at dyin’ these last four years, and nothing riled her more than to point out she hadn’t done it yet.

  “I don’t know what we can do,” Grandpa said, hoping to save Gil’s hide. “I don’t know nobody who could come out to help her. Leastwise, not without payin’ them.”

  The rocker started back up. Gil was saved.

  “I’ve been thinkin’ about that,” Grandma said. “Katie will be thirty years old come Thanksgiving, and she still don’t have a husband.”

  “Husband?” Gil chuckled. “She don’t even have a beau.”

  “That’s my point. She needs a man.”

  “Whatever for?” The rocker stopped again, only this time her gaze leveled on Grandpa. He didn’t think his question was that stupid.

  “For younguns.”

  Oh. Maybe it was.

  “Besides,” Grandma continued, “if she marries, we’ll have another hand to help out around here, and once the younguns are growed, they can help out too.”

  “What makes you think she’ll want to stay here if she marries?” Gil asked with a frown. “Her new husband might want to move away.”

  Grandma smiled. Heaven help them. Her smile rarely was a good sign. “That’s why it’s important that we pick Katie’s husband.”

  The walk back to the cabin was more interesting this afternoon than usual. Katie’s mind couldn’t seem to let go of her meeting with Dr. John Keffer. Such a big man. Of course, next to Katie, about everyone seemed big.

  He was handsome enough with his broad shoulders and dark hair, but when his green eyes had looked into hers, they were empty inside. Like some of the life had been sucked out of him.

  Katie stomped her feet against the sandstone stoop that led to the front porch of the cabin. No sense in carrying in any more dirt than necessary. The rest of her family had probably added more than their share while she was in town this morning, and far be it from any of them to sweep it back out again.

  She opened the door and froze. Everyone sat in the front room, staring at her as though she might fly away. And no one immediately asked her to do anything. Something was amiss.

  Grandma sat in her rocker by the fire, evidently done with dying for the day. Grandpa had a smile on his face, despite the fact that he had no food in front of him, and Pa looked as though he had no idea what was going on. Well, at least that part was still normal.

  “Good afternoon, Katie,” Grandma said with a smile.

  Uh-oh.

  Katie removed her coat, hung it on a peg by the door, and debated whether to run while she had the chance. They probably wanted her to put a new roof on the cabin or clear forty acres of land, and her feet were too tired for her to contemplate that at the moment.

  “We was just talking about you,” Grandma said.

  Really? Katie never would’ve guessed. “Do I want to know why?”

  “Katie,” Grandma said with a shake of her head. Her admonishing tone was no doubt intended to make Katie feel guilty. It didn’t…much.

  “We were talking about you because we’re worried.” Grandma sighed a little to emphasize how worried she was, before she continued. “You’ll be turning thirty next month, and we think it’s time you got yourself hitched.”

  Katie’s brows shot up with enough force to spring the hairpins from her bun. “Married? You can’t be serious!”

  She looked at Grandpa. He nodded in agreement, but most likely because he feared for his life if he didn’t. Grandma was wiry but fierce, dying or not.

  “Pa?”

  Pa shrugged and glanced at Grandma. He didn’t like to be put between a rock and a hard place. “Don’t you want a husband, Katie girl?”

  Another man to cook for and clean up after didn’t sound all that appealing. “I’ve done just fine up to now. I don’t see the need.”

  She headed to the kitchen. With all the thinking they’d evidently done in her absence, they were going to be hungrier than usual tonight, and supper wouldn’t cook by itself.

  The fire in the stove had almost burned out, and the wood bin in the kitchen was empty, as usual. Katie stepped out the back door, and darted to the pitifully low woodpile to grab some small logs for the fire. She returned shivering and mad, though
she didn’t know why. This was the way her life had been for years and nothing had changed. Then again, maybe that was why she was mad.

  “Pa?” she yelled. “We need firewood soon or we’re going to freeze to death.”

  Pa ambled into the kitchen and opened the stove with a grunt. “That’s why you need a husband. There’s only so much I can do, with my back and all.” He straightened with a grimace and rubbed his back to bring home his point. “Another man would come in handy around here.”

  If that other man knew which end of an ax to use.

  Katie harrumphed. She wasn’t as good at it as Grandma, but she was learning. Pa left, which was a good thing. The temptation to fix his back with the log she held was too strong to be healthy—at least for Pa.

  Grabbing her mixing bowl out of the cupboard, she plopped it onto the table with more force than needed. But mixing bowls didn’t talk back, and the sound it made helped ease her ire somewhat.

  Grandpa limped into the kitchen as she opened the Hoosier door to get some flour for biscuits. His knee must be hurting. Or was it his foot? It was hard to keep up with his ailments. They changed more often than he changed his socks.

  “You know, Katie, a husband would be a fine addition around here.”

  Must be his turn.

  She worked the tin sifter of the flour bin for a moment before she realized only a fine fluff sprinkled into her cup. Dragging a stool over to look into the top of the bin, she harrumphed again. It was practically empty.

  “We’re out of flour,” she grumbled to no one in particular, but since Grandpa was there, he decided to respond.

  “Why didn’t you buy some when you were in town?”

  “Because we’re also out of money.” She would have to gather eggs to sell so she could get money for flour. At least it allowed for another trip to town.

  “You see?” Grandpa grinned. “You need a husband.”

  She didn’t want to ask, but couldn’t stop herself. “How would that help?”

  “If you marry a man with means, you’ll always have money for flour and such.”

  “Then I can cook all the time?”

  “Exactly!”

  Grandpa had better leave. That empty bowl would look mighty good turned over his bald head right now. “Would you mind fetching me some more firewood?”

  “Sure, but I won’t be able to get much. My knee’s acting up today.” He hobbled out the back door with such effort that Katie would’ve felt sorry for him, if he hadn’t been limping on the other leg a moment before.

  Grandma entered the kitchen, a blue shawl wrapped pitifully around her thin shoulders, and an expression so pious the angels themselves should be weeping. She dragged a chair out at the table and lowered herself into it with a heavy sigh, hooking her cane on the edge of the table. Grandma never used her cane, but she carried it with her wherever she went, just in case she might need it.

  Katie steeled herself. The first two pleas, though heartfelt, would pale in comparison to this one. The queen bee was about to make her move.

  “You know, Katie, when your mama died, my heart broke in two.”

  Katie softened. Grandma wasn’t fibbing about this. “So did mine.”

  Grandma nodded. “She was as good a woman as ever was.” She looked up with genuine sorrow in her tired eyes. “You’re a good woman too, and I’m proud to call you my granddaughter.”

  A tear stung the corner of Katie’s eye. Even though she knew her grandma loved her, it was something that was never said. Grandma hadn’t used those exact words, but it was as close as Katie would likely come to hearing it.

  “You’re all the joy that’s left to me now,” Grandma continued, “and I can’t die easy till I know you’ve got younguns of your own to give you that joy in return.”

  Babies.

  She had to give it to her. Grandma had managed to find the one thing that would make Katie take a husband. Every time she delivered a new baby, her heart cried, first for joy, then for sadness because she had no little ones of her own. For a while she pushed it away, promising herself that she had plenty of time to have children. But lately the feelings wouldn’t leave no matter how hard she shoved.

  Time was passing and God help her, but Grandma was right. “I don’t know anyone who’d want to marry me,” Katie muttered, suddenly feeling ancient.

  Grandma laid a frail hand against her heart and patted with the utmost of efforts. “No need to worry, Katie girl. Grandma will take care of that for you.”

  Chapter Three

  “Pa, if you don’t hurry, we’re going to be late.” Katie could hear the church bell pealing as they rushed down the street to the old frame building, but the sight of children laughing and playing in the yard allowed Katie to slow down a bit. The service hadn’t started yet.

  “I don’t know why you’re in such a hurry.” Pa huffed and puffed as he walked. “We could be an hour late, and there’d still be plenty of sermon left. That man likes to hear himself talk.”

  Katie secretly agreed with her father’s opinion of Reverend Stoker, but church was important to her for many reasons. It was one of the few opportunities she had to visit with the other women in the area, and once winter hit, she would be cut off from the outside world for weeks at a time. Her trips into town would be few and only be made on days when the stores were open.

  “He’s just doing the Lord’s work, Pa.”

  “Looks like he could do it with a few less words.”

  Grandpa chuckled. “Which would you rather listen to, him or Grandma?”

  Pa snorted. “I’m here, ain’t I?”

  Grandma hadn’t made a trip into town since she’d started dying, and though Katie hated to admit it, it was one of the reasons she looked forward to the trip so much herself. Grandma’s heart was in the right place, but Katie only knew that because she had the habit of clutching it whenever it looked like things weren’t going the way she’d planned.

  “Katie?” Oh no, Eunice Kopp was heading her way. The old woman was as wide as she was tall, and if ever there was a walking maelstrom of disasters, it was Eunice.

  “Good morning, Eunice. How are you?”

  She took the polite greeting as a genuine invitation to list her maladies. “Oh, I’ve been better. My knees are giving me fits this morning.” She stopped in front of Katie and panted for a moment. “And my stomach is hurting somethin’ fierce. I don’t know if I ate some bad pork or if my liver’s needin’ cleaning. Would you have something for my liver?”

  “Did you eat some sauerkraut?”

  “Yep, but it didn’t help.” Eunice rubbed her belly to drive home her point.

  “If you want to come up to the house tomorrow, I can give you some calamus root. That ought to help.”

  “That’d be good. I need some more willow tea for my rheumatism, and I’d like to visit with your grandma anyway. How is Mable doin’?”

  “Well, she still isn’t dead, but she’s working real hard at it.”

  Eunice chuckled. “If anybody can do it, it’s your grandma.”

  Turning toward the church entrance, Katie took the brief pause in conversation as an opportunity to head into the sanctuary. Eunice hadn’t started on her family yet, but it was only a matter of time.

  “By the way…”

  Oops, Katie’d waited too long.

  “I was wondering if you’d pray for Tim’s mother. She’s having spells now, and it looks like her heart is ’bout to give out. His pa ain’t much better,” she added with a shake of her head over her in-laws’ distresses. Unfortunately, Eunice had a large family, and Katie knew her well enough to know she was just warming up.

  “Of course I will.” Katie continued walking, praying as she went, but she’d pray about Eunice’s family later. Right now she prayed for divine intervention.

  “Katie?” Rebecca Fisher called to her when she stepped into the sanctuary. Katie hurried over to speak to her as Eunice waddled on down the aisle. Thank you, Jesus.

  “Ho
w are you today, Rebecca?”

  Rebecca smiled and patted her tummy. The babe inside would be making its exit soon. “We’re doing good.” Rebecca already had three children, and Katie had delivered them all.

  “I’m finishing up a quilt to give you for delivering this one, and I’ve got some apple butter in the wagon for Davy’s poultice. It worked real good. His coughin’ has all but stopped.”

  “Glad to hear it. Another quilt will come in handy with winter coming.” The quilts and apple butter did come in handy, though Katie wished at least some of the people she doctored had money to pay with. Frank Davis wouldn’t trade apple butter for things like flour or buttons.

  “Holler when you need me,” Katie said to Rebecca as she headed toward her pew, where Pa and Grandpa had already settled in.

  She’d just lowered herself when Pa looked behind him and frowned. “Who’s that feller?”

  Turning toward the entrance, she spied the tall, broad-shouldered form of Dr. John Keffer. “He’s the new doctor in town,” she said, trying not to appear too interested, though the same could not be said for the rest of the congregation. A host of shoulder poking and whispers rolled across the room as all eyes riveted on the newcomer.

  “He stands out like manure on a white horse, don’t he?” Grandpa said, and Katie had to agree.

  No one she knew had the expensive clothing or the regal bearing that practically screamed “Big City” the way John’s did. And to make matters worse, he was alone. Or was he? A tiny hand slipped into John’s from behind, and a child hurried to meet his step.

  He appeared about as comfortable as a sinner in hell, but the little angel holding his hand was already in heaven. Too far away for Katie to hear, the child gabbed a mile a minute and smiled at everybody she passed. A halo of copper curls bounced on her head as she tugged John down the aisle, searching for the perfect seat. She all but shouted when she found one.

  Oh dear. Not only was that not the perfect seat, but it was the Pennington pew, and Gloria didn’t look too pleased about the possible intrusion. Katie hurried down the aisle to intercept, before he committed the only truly unpardonable sin…taking someone else’s pew.