A Midwife Crisis

by Lisa Cooke

  She hesitated for a second, a flash of hurt crossing her face, before she reached for the envelope. “Thank you,” she muttered. He hoped she didn’t look inside until she was home, else she’d surely return part of it. He’d more than doubled what he owed her, at least monetarily.

  “I also owe you an explanation,” he added.

  Lifting her eyes from the envelope, she caught his gaze before quickly averting hers. “You owe me nothing.”

  “Please,” he said, walking around the desk, “give me a moment.”

  She paused, then nodded and walked to a chair near the fire. Taking the one facing her, he tried to decide where to start. He probably should have decided that before now, but a part of him never expected her to actually stop by.

  He took a deep breath. “The morning after we…” He stopped. There was no delicate way to put what they’d done, and referring to it as making love would only add pain to an already painful situation.

  So he started again. “The morning after the party, Caroline came to see me in my office. She told me something that changed…” He stopped again. Telling Katie he’d planned to marry her would serve no purpose either. She’d never said she wanted him, and even if she did, it was a moot issue now.

  Another deep breath, followed by a sigh. This was harder than he’d expected. “She said Lois had told her that if anything ever happened to her, she wanted Caroline and me to marry and raise Julia together. It was her last wish.”

  He willed Katie to look at him, but she’d stared at the fire ever since sitting down as though the rambling he’d done had not been aloud.

  “I’m sorry. If I’d known earlier, I never would have…” He ran his hand down his face, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him. “I never would’ve come to your room.” It was a feeble apology for taking the woman’s virginity, especially since he knew in his heart he wouldn’t trade those moments with her for anything. They were what he’d live on for the rest of his life.

  She continued to stare ahead for an eternity before finally turning toward him. Her eyes overbright with unshed tears, her pallor no longer pink but ashen, he regretted his desire for her to look at him. If pain had a face, he was gazing at it.

  “I’m not a child, John.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply—”

  “And I don’t appreciate you acting as though I didn’t have any control over my life and my decisions.” She stood and headed toward the door.

  “I’m sorry, I—”

  “We both picked fiancés according to our wants and needs,” she said, her back to him as she strode across the room.

  “Do you love him?”

  Katie stopped, turning to face him, a defiant lift to her chin. “What woman wouldn’t love a man as handsome as Randy Kopp?”

  A knife entered his heart. “Is handsomeness a good enough reason for marriage?”

  “Better than yours. At least my life isn’t being ruled from a grave.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “Why have you been moping around here like someone killed your favorite hound?” Grandma said, carrying her cane into the kitchen. “You’d think that marrying a man like Randy Kopp would have you smilin’ like a fool.”

  Katie had hoped that by keeping to herself in the week since she’d seen John, Grandma wouldn’t ask questions. She should’ve known better.

  “Hay fever,” she said, wiping at the tear that just had to take that moment to roll down her cheek.

  “I ain’t never heard of no one having hay fever so late in the year,” Grandma grumbled, adding a dash of salt to the gravy bubbling in the skillet. “Whatever it is, you need to snap out of it. Your wedding day ain’t that far away. Christmas Eve is going to be here before you know it, and your groom is going to want a happy bride.”

  “Well then,” Katie said, slapping the biscuit dough as though it were the one nagging her, “I’ll be sure to perk myself up before the big day. I wouldn’t want everyone to be disappointed in me.”

  “Katie?” Grandpa yelled from the front room. “Doc’s here to see you.”

  Katie froze. She hadn’t spoken to John since he’d explained his reasons for marrying Caroline. He deserved to be smacked with her skillet, but it was full of salty gravy at the moment. So instead, she jerked off her apron, smoothed her hair into her bun, and washed the flour from her hands. With a quick adjustment to her bodice, she took a calming breath and headed for the living room.

  John stood just inside the door, coat still fastened, hat clutched in his hand. “Hello, Katie.”

  “John,” she said by way of greeting, pleased her voice sounded composed. “Did you want a word with me?”

  He nodded, then glanced at her family glowering at him as though they were ready to whup him if necessary. They would have to wait their turn.

  “I would like to have a moment with you,” he said, “but do you think we could go to the porch?”

  “Yes,” she said, crossing the room to get her coat. At least if they went to the porch, she was guaranteed to be the first in line for the whupping.

  He waited while she put on her coat, then opened the door to step outside. Crossing to the edge of the porch, she forced herself to turn and face him. All the thousands of things she’d wanted to say to him suddenly flew out of her mind as she looked into his eyes. She’d missed them so much. “What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

  Reaching into the front of his coat, he pulled out a book. “I was packing things up for the move, and I came across this. I would like for you to have it.”

  He handed her the book.

  Her book.

  “Romeo and Juliet,” she whispered, running her hand across the leather binding. “Thank you,” she said, noticing the warmth of his body still emanated from the book, and she’d bet if she lifted it to her nose, it would smell like him too.

  “So,” he said, filling the pause, “when are you and Randy getting married?”

  “Christmas Eve.”

  “In the morning?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m getting married in the afternoon.”

  “Oh.” It wasn’t much by way of conversation, but at least she wasn’t in tears.

  They stood for a moment, their breaths leaving foggy wisps in the cold morning air. Until she said, “You’re moving back to New York?”

  “Yeah,” he said, “Caroline wants to live there.”

  “At least now you won’t have to mess up any more rooms in your home.”

  He lifted his brow, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. “You knew?”

  “I suspected.”

  “I should’ve known better than to try to fool you.”

  She wasn’t so sure about that. He’d made a better fool out of her than most. “Why did you hire me?”

  “So people would stop by to see me.” He glanced away as though his answer embarrassed him. “I figured if you were there, they would trust me more.”

  “Oh.” Here came those darned tears. She blinked them back. “It worked.”

  “Like a charm,” he said, but with more sadness than pride. “Before I forget, Julia wanted me to ask you if you’re coming to the Christmas Pageant. She said you helped make her wings and she wanted you to see her be an angel. There’s going to be a little party at my house afterward for everyone who comes to the play.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “It means a lot to her,” John added when Katie attempted to refuse.

  But how could she refuse Julia? “I’ll try.”

  “I also want you to keep Lightning and the wagon.”

  “I can’t do that—”

  “Just until after the wedding. I know you’re going to make several trips into town, and I don’t want you walking through the snow.”

  He waited for her response and when she gave none added, “Please.”

  She nodded and dropped her eyes, finding it difficult to look at him.

  Another uncomfortable quiet engulfed the p
orch.

  “Well,” he finally said when the silence started screaming, “I guess I should be on my way.”

  Not trusting herself to speak, she simply raised her eyes. He took a step toward the stairs, then turned back to her. Laying his hand on the side of her face, he leaned into her, pressing a kiss against her cheek. “Good-bye, Katie,” he whispered, then hurried away.

  Or at least she thought he hurried away, but by the time his feet hit the ground, her tears blurred her vision beyond hope.

  Lord have mercy. Grandma was walking to church and Katie wasn’t. If that wasn’t proof the world had turned upside down, nothing was. Grandpa glanced over at his wife, debating whether to ask why she’d suddenly decided not to die and to head to church instead. She hadn’t been working very hard at dying lately and that meant all her energy was directed elsewhere.

  Lord have mercy.

  “All right,” he finally said, deciding he might as well get it over with, “what’s on your mind?”

  “Katie ain’t happy,” Grandma said, stomping down the trail toward town with a breakneck pace.

  “She don’t seem to be,” he answered, relieved he wasn’t the reason for Grandma’s current snit.

  “A soon-to-be bride should be tickled to death, but she’s as blue as I’ve ever seen her.”

  “Yup,” Grandpa answered. Seemed a safe enough response. He glanced over at Gil, wondering if he had a thought in his head, but decided it didn’t matter. When Grandma got like this, no one else’s thoughts were needed anyway.

  “We got to do something about it,” she said.

  Grandpa sighed. He hated to ask, but it did involve Katie. “What can we do?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. She ain’t happy because she don’t want to marry Randy. I can’t understand it, but she’s got her heart set on the doc.”

  “But he’s marrying that other woman.”

  “Don’t matter,” Grandma said, and Grandpa gulped.

  “What do you mean, ‘it don’t matter’?”

  “As much as it pains me to admit it, Katie and Doc love each other. I seen it when they danced together at her party, and if you hadn’t been eating everything on the table, you would’ve seen it too.”

  He’d seen it. Sort of. “I still don’t know what we can do. The weddings are in three days.”

  Grandma grinned. “That’s enough time to set this straight and still have two days to spare.”

  Lord have mercy.

  Katie never dreamed that going to church would be so difficult. She’d managed to stay away from town ever since she’d left John’s, sure she would break into tears if she saw him with Caroline again and maybe without. It would be too humiliating for others to know how much she hurt, especially since everyone thought she was happily engaged to Randy. Now if she could just continue that ruse.

  She smiled and accepted everyone’s best-wishes before the Christmas Pageant got under way. She was grateful when the angels began making their way into the sanctuary. Most were singing “Silent Night,” though one or two must have taken singing lessons from Pa. They were on different notes, maybe even different songs. It was hard to tell.

  “Cute little rascals, aren’t they?” Randy whispered. For a second, she’d forgotten he was sitting beside her. It seemed odd to have him there, but since they were getting married in the morning, it would probably be odder if he weren’t.

  She smiled up at him and nodded. “About as cute as they can get.”

  Randy reached over and took her hand, folding it into his. She remembered John’s hand engulfing hers and somehow found Randy’s lacking. She glanced at him, hoping a glimpse of his blue eyes would erase the memories of certain green ones, but it didn’t work. For the first time since she’d met Randy, he wasn’t handsome or charming. He was just Randy. The sparkling blue eyes were just eyes and those darling dimples were now just dents in the man’s cheeks.

  Sigh. It was going to be a long wedding night.

  A timid wave from Julia brought Katie’s attention back to the stage and her favorite angel, who proceeded to point to her wings as though Katie didn’t notice them tied to her back. They’d spent hours gluing chicken feathers to the paper cutouts, and the result was perfect. Beautiful white, feathery wings peeked around Julia’s shoulders, though they tipped slightly to the left. But that wasn’t Julia’s fault. Billy was plucking feathers off on that side, and Katie prayed Julia wouldn’t notice.

  Mary and Joseph entered the stage, shifting Julia’s attention. The little girl waved to someone on the other side of the church.

  Dare she look? Katie allowed her gaze to flitter across the sanctuary to John, her heart jumping to her throat. So handsome in his suit, his hair combed perfectly and a slight smile lifting the corner of his mouth, he waved subtly at Julia. Before Katie could look away, he turned toward her and their gazes locked.

  His mouth opened slightly as though he was going to say something, but before his lips moved, a loud smack drew attention back to the stage.

  Julia had noticed Billy’s plucking, and now he was wailing from a walloping. Served him right, but it managed to stop the play for a moment while Rebecca Fisher and Eunice Kopp hurried to the stage to calm the angels before someone else got hurt.

  John contemplated rising to his feet to retrieve his avenging angel, but decided to relax when the ladies got everything quickly back under control. Billy was moved to the other side of the angel chorus, and Julia’s wings were straightened, though she continued to pout.

  With a handful of retrieved feathers, Julia folded her arms across her chest and refused to sing the next two numbers. John tried not to grin at his daughter’s spunk.

  “She’ll have to be punished as soon as we return home,” Caroline muttered beside him. “She’s ruined the entire pageant.”

  For a brief second, John imagined stuffing the detached feathers into Caroline’s mouth. Not a smart thought for a bridegroom to hold on the night before his wedding. So he patted Caroline’s hand. “She was protecting herself,” he whispered, in an attempt to smooth over the incident.

  “She was behaving like a hoyden,” Caroline whispered back, “and the sooner we get her away from these people, the better.”

  Instead of explaining a few things to Caroline about these people, John focused on the rest of the play, not noticing until the end that his arms were folded across his chest not too unlike his daughter’s. But at least he wasn’t pouting. Much.

  The last song rang out with jubilation, and then Julia bounced off the stage and straight to Katie’s arms. John watched, wondering again how Katie could choose a man like Randy. That imbecile would never treat a woman like Katie right.

  “Hard to believe, ain’t it?” Harold Crowley stepped beside John in the aisle.

  “What’s that?” John responded, his eyes still fastened on Katie.

  “That she’d pick that hotheaded whelp when she could’ve had a real man.”

  John started to make some humble comment, but before he had the chance, Harold snorted. “Yep, I’d have married her in a second.”

  “Hell, who wouldn’t have?” John mumbled, temporarily forgetting he stood in the church aisle with his fiancée close behind.

  Luckily, no one seemed to hear. Harold stormed off in his typical huff and Julia rushed to him for help with her wings. She insisted they be tied back on after they were removed to put on her coat. In the ensuing rewinging, John lost sight of Katie and, for a second, felt as though he’d lost much more.

  His spirits lifted immediately, however, when he entered his home to find Katie among the guests in his parlor.

  “Well,” Caroline said sarcastically, “it’s nice to see something return a smile to your face tonight.”

  He sighed, suddenly tired of her gibes. “I happen to like these people,” he said, removing his coat and leaving Caroline standing in the foyer. Terribly rude, he knew, but Caroline would get over it. For now, he had to figure out a way to casually find his way t
o Katie.

  He needed to talk to her.

  He needed to make love to her.

  He needed to stop those thoughts. They were foolish and would do nothing but cause pain. They were both marrying other people tomorrow. Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy a few moments with her before their lives took them in opposite directions. They could pass the time as any parting friends would, nothing more.

  With feigned interest in the cookies on the buffet table, he crossed the room, closer to Katie’s side. Randy handed her a cup of punch, then kissed her cheek.

  John’s gut knotted as his mind tortured him with images of what Randy would be doing to Katie this time tomorrow night. Luckily, laughter and a round of applause directed everyone’s attention to the doorway of the parlor where Rebecca and Paul Fisher stood under a sprig of mistletoe. The couple exchanged a kiss, much to the delight of the children and the envy of John.

  He wondered if they had any idea how lucky they were to be married to the one they loved.

  “Daddy?” Julia tugged on his sleeve. She stood before him, Harvey clutched tightly to her chest. The cat’s long body dangled almost to Julia’s knees. She looked up at John, a tear perched precariously on the edge of her lashes. “Am I in trouble?”

  He knelt to her level. “For what?”

  “Smacking Billy.”

  John rubbed his chin, buying a second to think about his response. “It probably would’ve been better had you not done that in church.”

  “Aunt Caroline said I was wicked.”

  He started to say that Aunt Caroline was a witch, then bit back his words along with a hint of panic. She wasn’t a witch. She was his fiancée and by this time tomorrow night she was going to be his wife—and Julia’s mother. Some things were going to have to be sorted out and quickly, but theirs would be a marriage not unlike many of his friends’.

  They would live in polite society with polite friends and have polite dinner parties.

  And he would probably go crazy, albeit politely.

  “You’re not wicked,” he said, suddenly remembering his daughter’s need for validation. “You’re the best little girl any daddy could ever want.”