A Midwife Crisis

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A Midwife Crisis Page 16

by Lisa Cooke


  “You expect me to ride in that?”

  Lightning snorted as though her remark offended him, then proceeded to raise his tail and return the offense.

  John shrugged. “It’s either that or walk, and the stream I wanted to show you is quite some distance from here.”

  “Well,” she said, tucking a blonde curl into her chignon, “if it means that much to you, I suppose I can manage.” Then she smiled sweetly and held out her hand for him to help her climb into the seat.

  He wasn’t aware it had meant all that much to him. She was the one who’d insisted on a picnic and when he agreed to it, he thought it’d include Katie and Julia. But Caroline insisted they didn’t want to go, so he hid his disappointment and hitched up the wagon.

  He supposed he should feel sorry for Caroline. She bounced down the road with one hand holding on to her bonnet and the other gripping the seat as though convinced she was going to tumble over backward, and by the time they made it to the stream, “sweet” was no longer the word he would use to describe her smile. Come to think of it, even smile wasn’t entirely accurate. Grimace? That was closer.

  “Finally we’re here,” she said, reaching for John to lift her from the wagon. When he set her on the ground, she stumbled slightly, landing full against his chest.

  “Oh,” she giggled, looking up at him through lash-lowered eyes. “Thank goodness, you caught me.” Then she gave a little squeeze to his arms as though testing his muscles. Was she flirting?

  Releasing her, he grabbed the picnic basket and a quilt from behind the seat. Caroline flirting was an uncomfortable thought and not one he wanted to dwell on. “This way,” he said, gesturing to a wooded area near the stream.

  She tucked her arm through his and stepped cautiously through the tall grasses. A small waterfall poured from a spring in the side of a hill, cool droplets making a tinkling sound as they landed in a pool of water that flowed into the stream. Mosses and ferns grew in abundance around the spring and the fecund smell of the forest filled the air.

  “What a lovely place,” Caroline said as John flipped open the quilt to lie on the ground.

  “Katie showed it to me.”

  “Katie? Oh yes. You mean the cook.”

  John opened the basketful of treats Katie had prepared, reluctantly admitting to himself she was the cook. But Caroline said it as though that made her beneath them. “She’s a wonderful cook, but she’s only doing this as a favor to me until my housekeeper returns.”

  Caroline joined John on the quilt, taking several minutes to adjust the folds of her gown and pat her hair, until finally giving him an expression that bordered on pity. “Really, John, do you think you should be on such friendly terms with the girl?”

  “The girl’s name is Katie, and we are friends, and I happen to like it that way.”

  She leaned toward him, placing her hand on his arm. “Please don’t be angry with me. I’m just worried for you. You and I are both vulnerable right now.” She lifted her hand to retrieve a handkerchief from her reticule and dabbed at the corner of one eye.

  “I miss Lois terribly,” she continued. “Such a dear sister, and it’s only been two years since the unfortunate accident.” She placed her hand back on his arm. “That’s why I just had to come see you.” She dabbed again at the same eye, making him wonder if she only cried from one eye at a time.

  “I miss her too,” he said, and he did miss her, but oddly enough, it didn’t hurt as much to say it as it used to.

  Caroline touched his wedding ring. “Don’t you think it’s time we both moved forward?”

  At the angle she was leaning, any more forward motion would probably cause her to spill from the scooped neckline of her gown. Pulling his gaze away from her décolletage, he reached for the picnic basket.

  “I am moving forward. That’s why I moved here.”

  “There’s a difference between moving forward and running away.”

  But sometimes the latter can cause the former, though at the moment, the last thing he wanted to do was point that out to Caroline. She was a little too smug with her earth-shattering revelation, and he decided to let her bask in it for a while longer.

  A ring of the chime on the front door brought Katie quickly down the steps. It had taken forever to convince Julia that she wasn’t too old for naps and even longer to convince the kitten. Today the kitten’s name was Felicia. Yesterday it was Henry. Since it was still too young to determine whether it was male or female, Julia wasn’t taking any chances. Katie didn’t want to take any chances on the door chime waking either one of them.

  “Afternoon, Katie,” Harold said as soon as she jerked open the door.

  “Harold.” She pulled off her apron and patted her hair into her bun. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  He cleared his throat, then stretched to look around her into the house. “Is the doc home?”

  “No. He’s out for the moment. Are you ailing?”

  “No, but I was hoping we could take a little walk. I ain’t seen you much since you’ve been living here.”

  “Oh. Well, I’d love to take a walk with you, but Julia’s upstairs asleep, and I can’t leave her.” She motioned to the chairs on the porch. “Maybe we could sit here for a spell and chat.”

  Harold frowned, which Katie was beginning to suspect was a natural state for him, and took the closest seat, leaving Katie to walk around him to the next chair.

  They sat in silence for a few moments before Katie finally said, “How have you been lately?”

  “Good,” he answered, and she guessed she should be relieved. The last time she and Harold had had a private conversation, he’d shared his bowel problems.

  “Well,” she said, hoping he’d take the word as a cue that it was his turn to bring up a topic of conversation.

  He didn’t.

  Luckily, John’s carriage came wobbling down the street at about that time, delivering a topic of conversation to the doorstep.

  “That’s John’s sister-in-law, Caroline,” she said, nodding in their direction.

  “Hmmph,” was Harold’s reply.

  “She just came from New York City.”

  “Hmmph,” again.

  Katie had about had enough “hmmphing” to last her, but before she had to do something about it, John guided Lightning to the hitching rail in front of the porch and left the wagon to tie the mule before someone got hurt.

  John glanced at the porch and gave a frown not too unlike Harold’s.

  “Afternoon, Doc,” Harold said.

  “Afternoon, Harold,” John returned, helping Caroline down from the wagon.

  She put her arm through John’s and laughed lightly as though they shared some personal secret. Katie looked at Harold and smiled sweetly, wishing it’d been Randy who’d stopped by today instead of Harold. Randy was much prettier.

  “Harold came by for a visit,” she said, trying to sound excited. “Wasn’t that nice of him?”

  John continued to escort Caroline up the steps to the front door. He nodded in response to Katie’s question, but didn’t say any more on the subject.

  “I was hoping I could get Katie to tell me what she’d like for her birthday,” Harold said.

  John stopped walking and immediately looked at Katie. “When’s your birthday?”

  “Thanksgiving,” she answered, wondering why he was so interested.

  “That’s only a couple of weeks away.”

  “And we’re hoping she’ll let us know who she’s going to marry by then.”

  Harold’s statement snapped Caroline’s attention to the conversation. To that point, she hadn’t even made eye contact.

  “Marry?” She smiled as though she and Katie were best friends. “Katie dear, you didn’t tell me you were getting married.”

  Maybe that was because, up to that point, she didn’t think Caroline dear, knew her name.

  “I plan to.”

  “Who’s the lucky man?” Caroline dear asked, beaming up at John as
though it was the best news she’d heard in a while.

  “I’m not sure just yet.”

  “Not sure?”

  Katie’s stomach sank. The last person she wanted to inform about her abundance of fiancés was Caroline dear.

  “She has three fiancés,” John said, and not with any of the sarcasm she would’ve used if the situation were reversed.

  “Three?” Caroline threw her head back in a laugh that was borderline disrespectful. Of course, borderline for Caroline was an improvement.

  “And is this one of them?”

  Harold bristled at her implication but fortunately refrained from commenting.

  “Yes,” John answered. “This is Harold Crowley. Harold, please meet Caroline Humboldt.”

  “Afternoon,” Harold said.

  Caroline giggled behind her hand as she returned the greeting and led John into the house. Where was Randy Kopp when Katie needed him?

  “So, Katie?” Harold asked, bringing her attention back to him. “What do you want for your birthday?”

  “You don’t have to get me anything, Harold.”

  “Now, don’t be silly. A man has to get his girl something for her birthday.”

  She wasn’t sure, but she thought he winked at her. Kind of hard to tell and compared to Randy’s wink, it wasn’t much, but she suspected he was flirting.

  He was waiting for an answer, so she said, “Why don’t you just surprise me?”

  That seemed to placate him and for the next few minutes he thought out loud about what she might want as he watched her face for a reaction. A new skillet? Some spoons? A measuring cup?

  “How about a new apron? A pretty white one with lace and fancy stitching?”

  Katie smiled, but only because she realized if she didn’t give him some reaction he was going to name everything in the kitchen. “That sounds nice.”

  Harold continued to speculate, then went from birthday gifts to all the things he would buy her once they were married. The man was going to have to build a new house just to hold all the kitchen utensils.

  She nodded and smiled and tried to act pleased when he proceeded to tell her all his favorite foods and how he liked them fixed. Thank goodness. She probably wouldn’t have slept that night if he hadn’t.

  “I best be getting home now,” he finally said, standing, with an assortment of creaks, to his feet. And here all this time, she’d thought it was just her porch creaking.

  “Nice of you to stop by,” she said, waiting patiently for him to creak down the street before going into the house to check on Julia.

  She heard it as soon as she entered the door. Music, and not a fiddle or juice harp or anyone singing. It was different from anything she’d heard before. Following the sound, she stepped quietly down the hallway, stopping just outside the parlor. She’d never looked in the large cabinet that sat against the wall. Didn’t think it was her place to snoop in someone else’s home, but now she kind of wished she had. The doors were propped open and inside was the biggest music box she’d ever seen.

  And John and Caroline were dancing. She held his hand out to the side and had her other hand on his shoulder. His was at her waist as they stepped in circles around the room. Her skirt swayed and swooshed out with each turn as she glided around the room in his arms. Katie watched until the music stopped, then darted past the doorway before they could see her.

  She forced herself to stay busy with dinner and Julia, not dwelling on the music box or the beautiful dance she’d seen. But as soon as everything was cleaned up and everyone had gone to bed, she headed to the parlor. Quickly lighting a lamp, she closed the door behind her and hurried across the room to open the cabinet.

  Gramophone was written across the front, and after a moment of studying the instructions written inside, she started the music box. Beautiful sounds lilted into the room, sending Katie on a journey to lands she’d only imagined from reading her books. She closed her eyes and allowed the music to lift her to another place and another time. A handsome knight dismounted from his white horse, his armor shining, and his eyes on fire. He took her in his arms and swayed with her to the music, turning in circles, her satin skirts twirling about her like a princess.

  “Would you like to learn the waltz?”

  Gasping, Katie spun toward the door where John stood leaning against the frame. His tie and jacket were missing, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his forearms. The crisp white of his shirt exaggerated the darkness of his hair as he stood silently in the dim light of the room.

  “I’m sorry,” she muttered, rushing to shut down the gramophone. “I shouldn’t have done this without asking you.”

  “Katie. Stop.”

  She did, but she didn’t turn to face him. It was too embarrassing.

  “You can listen to it any time you want.” He crossed the room and knelt beside her in front of the cabinet. “There are other records in here, though some of my best were broken on the trip from New York.”

  He dug through the cabinet and handed her a flat disc with grooves cut into the glass. “This one is by a man named Caruso.”

  She stared at the record, trying to see how something this flat could hold the sounds she’d heard.

  “Someday, we’ll listen to it.” He placed the record back in the cabinet before taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. “But for right now, I think you need to learn the waltz.”

  “I don’t, I mean, you don’t need to teach me—”

  “I believe I owe you a lesson. After all, you taught me how to square-dance.”

  “Not very well.” She could have bitten her tongue. That wasn’t exactly what she’d meant to say, but John chuckled and she decided not to amend her statement. He had a nice chuckle.

  With a quick adjustment, he restarted the record to the beginning of the waltz music, then faced her, arms out. She stepped to him and placed her hands where she’d seen Caroline’s earlier.

  The corner of his mouth lifted, obviously pleased that she’d known what to do.

  “It’s really a simple dance,” he said, folding his hand over hers. “Just take three steps at a time and allow me to lead you around the room.”

  She nodded, because having him this close to her made speaking difficult, and then followed his lead.

  “One, two, three,” he counted, guiding her slowly around the room.

  He only counted for a few moments before she fell into the rhythm and the music took over. She smiled as they floated, her eyes drifting shut and her steps taking her back to her magic kingdom. Only this time, she didn’t have to imagine the knight. He was strong and warm, and with each turn, pulling her closer until finally he stopped moving.

  She opened her eyes to gaze into the green ones searing into her in the faint light of the room. Neither spoke as he laid his hand against her cheek and the warmth rushed through her body. Were it not for the music, she knew her heartbeat would echo through the room, matched only by her breathing.

  His eyes questioned her, asking for permission as though she had any power to refuse. He leaned toward her, taking forever to close the distance between their lips, and when he finally claimed hers, she thought she’d die.

  Lord, how she wanted his touch.

  Like nothing existed in the world except his kiss and embrace, everything else paling until it faded away. She slid her hands up his shoulders to the back of his neck, where she threaded them through his hair.

  He nibbled and tugged at her mouth, slipping his tongue through parted teeth and stroking hers with passion as his hands rubbed her back. First, in small circles, then dropping lower and lower until he cupped her bottom and pulled her against him. A moan jumped from her mouth and into his, and the sound seemed to ignite him.

  “Katie,” he whispered, pulling back enough to press his lips against her throat, and the warmth in her body began pooling out of her control.

  Lord, how she wanted his touch, only now she realized, with embarrassment, where she wanted it.

  “
John?” Caroline called from the hallway.

  They froze for a second before jumping back from each other and quickly adjusting their clothing.

  “John?” she said again, then walked into the room. “Oh.” She glanced at each of them, looking at Katie as if she were a harlot. “I hope I’m not interrupting.” Her implication was clear, and Katie had never been more embarrassed in her life.

  “I was teaching Katie how to waltz.” John pointed to the gramophone as though Caroline would have no idea where the music was coming from.

  She smiled, far too sweetly, and walked to his side. “That’s kind of you, but I doubt Katie’s fiancés would approve of her spending time alone with you this late at night.”

  Her tone clearly indicated her disapproval, and Katie was still too rattled to defend herself—especially to Caroline. So she excused herself and hurried to her room, but as she lay in her bed, she realized with a jolt that she no longer wanted her future husband to touch her like John.

  She wanted her future husband to be John.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Katie had taken more time than usual preparing herself for church. To the point of even snipping a few strands of hair around her face, then dampening the tendrils so they curled. She loosened her bun a little, pleased with the effect, but when she stepped into the foyer and Caroline glided through, Katie felt as plain as a barn wren.

  Caroline’s soft yellow gown with matching gloves and bonnet made Katie’s blue Sunday dress look like what it was—old, blue, and as plain as Katie herself. Suddenly she felt silly for cutting her hair.

  “Katie?” John joined them in the foyer. “You’ve down something different with your hair.”

  “A little.” Nervously, she reached up to adjust a curl.

  “It looks nice.” A soft twinkle in his eye and a subtle lift of his lip made her feel better.

  “Thank you,” she said, but Caroline made sure that was the last thing she said for the rest of the walk to church.

  She managed to wedge herself between John and Katie and proceeded to chat the entire way about New York “this”s and New York “that”s. Only including Katie in the conversation to ask her questions like, “What’s your favorite wine, Katie?” Or “Don’t you just love Monet?”

 

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