Thunder's Shadow (In the Shadow of the Cedar Book 3)

by Sheila Hollinghead

  “One of those animals get ahold of you?”

  I tried to think of something to tell her without lying. “I hurt my foot at work.”

  “Phhhtttt... I know that. How did you hurt your foot?”

  I sighed heavily. “A horse stepped on it.”

  “A horse?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I heard you say that man...”

  “That man is my husband. His name is Michael.”

  “You said he told you not to be messing with horses or cows. Reckon you learned your lesson.”

  I shrugged but didn’t answer, hoping she’d leave. She finally turned and shuffled from the room.

  Laurie came out of hiding, from the other room, and helped me change and get in bed. I caught Laurie’s hand before she moved away.

  “Listen, Laurie. I need to get word to Dr. Driscoll, let him know I won’t be going in for a while.”

  “For a while? You do know you’re having a baby in a few weeks. You shouldn’t be working at all.”

  Laurie was so old-fashioned. I pulled myself up, propping on my elbows. “It keeps my mind off the war, off Michael. I’d go crazy if I didn’t have something to do.”

  She shrugged. “Just ain’t never seen anyone work as hard as you do, ’specially not a pregnant woman.”

  “I’m just doing what I have to do... and as long as Dr. Driscoll will let me, I’m going to work.”

  She laughed. “He can’t do without you now. That Velma...” She said the name as if it had a bitter taste. “Velma wouldn’t take a swing at a snake if it was about to strike her.”

  “She’s doing better since she’s learned some organizational skills.”

  Laurie looked at me as if I’d taken leave of my senses. “You taking her side now?”

  “I have to work with her. We have to try to find the good in all people, especially those we work with.”

  “Some people ain’t got a bit of good.”

  I shook my head at Laurie. “I think most of us are a mixture of good and bad. Maybe you’re just jealous?” I kept my words gentle.

  Laurie looked down at her hands for a moment. “Nope. I never asked Walter to like me.” She raised her head, and her eyes sought mine. “Don’t matter no how.”

  She seemed calm, and I was glad she had taken my advice, and was staying away from Walter.

  I smiled at her. “Thanks for coming over.”

  “I don’t mind a bit. I’m glad to stay busy, like you. Keeps my mind off things.”

  “Good.” I laid my head back on the pillow. In a few short weeks, I’d be a new mother. I had not really dwelled on it until now. I had lots to do to get ready.

  Laurie and I were going to be busy, broken foot or not.

  Chapter 34—The Ride

  Mr. Drake died on October thirtieth. Dan, still stationed at Ft. Benning, came home for the funeral on November second. It had been two weeks since I had the accident with the horse, and I had an appointment for the next day, hopefully to get the cast removed.

  I had had contractions on and off for the last two weeks, since the accident with my foot, but knew that was perfectly normal. The contractions were sometimes strong, once awakening me from a sound sleep, but never became regular. My back ached continuously, even when lying flat on the bed.

  I wanted to go to the funeral, but knew it was not feasible, being nine months pregnant, two weeks from my due date, with back pain, and a cast on my right foot.

  After Laurie helped me dress and hobble into the empty sitting room, she went home to get ready for the funeral. The whole community would be there since Mr. Drake was a prominent man, even if not well liked.

  Momma was still in bed. Laurie had prepared lunch, and it was on the stove, waiting for me when I got ready to eat.

  I sat down with a veterinary journal and read. Although the nights were getting cooler, the days were still warm. It was in the eighties, and I got up, planning to get a glass of water. But as I stood, an intense contraction hit and a warmth trickled down my legs.

  My water had broken. Another contraction hit, stronger than before. Contractions rolled over me, barely allowing me a moment to recover. Something was wrong. As inexperienced as I was, I knew this was not normal labor.

  I went into Momma’s bedroom without knocking, shaking her shoulder.

  “Momma, wake up.”

  She moaned and rolled away from me. I hobbled to the kitchen, stopping each time a contraction hit, and made a pan of icy water. I didn’t have time today for her games. I hobbled back to her room and dumped the entire pan on her. She yelped and sat straight up.

  “You lost your cotton-picking mind?” she demanded.

  “The baby’s coming, Momma, and something’s wrong.” Another contraction hit, bending me over and leaving me gasping.

  “You’re having a baby. It’s gonna hurt. Go lie down and let nature take its course.”

  Holding my swollen abdomen with one hand, I grasped her wrist. “I know something’s wrong. You’ve got to take me to the hospital.”

  “The hospital? Where James died? I ain’t going there.” She scooted back in bed, her eyes widening.

  “Momma...” I gasped through the pain that made the tears stand in my eyes. “Momma... you have to help me. I can’t drive with a broken foot.”

  “You making a mountain out of a molehill.”

  “Momma...” I tightened my grip on her wrist, yanking her toward the edge of the bed.

  “Let go of me. You’re hurting me.”

  I didn’t let go, and she must have seen the determination in my eyes.

  She sighed. “I’ll take you to Colt’s. He can drive you.”

  I did not let go until her feet touched the floor. “Just hurry.” I stumbled to her chifferobe and got a dress out.

  She shooed me out. “Go on. I don’t need no help.”

  I went back into the sitting room but couldn’t sit down, the pain was too great. My back felt as if it would break. I paced the room, my foot throbbing, yet barely registering. The pain from the contractions was blinding.

  Momma came out, and I took her elbow and pushed her toward the door. She fussed and complained all the way to the truck. I got her behind the wheel and went to the passenger’s side, but before I could get in, another contraction hit, leaving me with hot tears flowing down my cheeks. When it passed, I yanked open the door and climbed up.

  “Momma, crank the truck,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “I ain’t ever driven this thing.”

  “You know how to drive. You do the same thing you’d do in any other car.”

  I cried out again as another contraction hit. “Please hurry.”

  “Well, quit hollering. It’s making me jittery.”

  I clamped my teeth together. “Just go.”

  She pulled onto the road and it only took a few minutes to get to Uncle Colt’s. Momma started to turn off the truck, but I stopped her. “Blow the horn.”

  “Why?”

  I scooted over and leaned on the horn. No one came to the door. There were no cars or trucks in the yard.

  I groaned. “They’ve gone to the funeral. You’ve got to take me.”

  “I’ll take you to the church and get someone.”

  “We’re not interrupting a funeral.” Whether in frustration or pain, or a combination of both, I screamed, not knowing for how long. “Momma... please... oh, God... please.”

  “Quit your screaming, or I ain’t driving you nowhere.” But she drove back onto the road, creeping along, her lips pressed together.

  “Momma, if you don’t hurry, I might die,” I said, panting in between contractions.”

  Her eyes widened at that, but the truck did not speed up.

  Tears streamed down my face unheeded. “Momma, if I die, where will you go?”

  The truck sped up, and I leaned back, the tears flowing freely. Waves of pain rolled over me, and I barely clung to consciousness by the time we made it to the old house converted int
o a hospital.

  Momma drove as close as she could to the door and blew the horn. A nurse came out, took one look at me, ran back in, and returned with two orderlies carrying a stretcher. They helped me out, and I left behind a puddle of blood on the seat. Blood continued to run down my legs.

  Momma had gotten out and stood by the stretcher. “Sarah Jane, I’m going back home now.”

  Panic beat against my chest. “Momma, you can’t leave me.”

  “You’re in pain, and me here is just gonna cause you more.” She walked away, and another contraction rolled over me, leaving me gasping.

  I grabbed the nurse’s arm nearest to me. “Save my baby. Please save my baby.”

  Tears stood in her eyes as she patted my arm, and she watched Momma drive away before she refocused on me. “We’ll do all we can do.”

  I was carried into a room and placed on the table, the nurses scurrying around until the doctor came in. He examined me and then turned to the nurses. “Prep her for the OR.”

  “Doctor, please tell me what’s wrong.”

  His kindly eyes found mine. “The baby’s a complete breech. You need a Caesarean Section.”

  “Is the baby all right?” I whispered.

  “We don’t know yet.”

  I closed my eyes, tears seeping from beneath my eyelids. Someone touched my arm, and I opened my eyes.

  It was the nurse I had seen. “Do you have anyone with you?”

  “No, I’m alone.” I closed my eyes tightly, praying harder than I had ever prayed before, moaning with the pain.

  “I’ll stay right here with you,” the nurse said kindly, taking my hand.

  I opened my eyes again. “Thank you.” The touch of her hand comforted me as I was rolled to the operating room.

  The anesthetic mask was placed over my face, and I was told to take deep breaths and count back from one hundred.

  I began to count and got to ninety-five when the scalpel sliced open my abdomen. I screamed into the mask, heard the anesthesiologist say, “She’s not under,” and then knew no more.

  Chapter 35—Alone

  I awoke in the recovery room in severe pain, with waves of nausea washing over me. A nurse was immediately at my side.

  My voice was hoarse. “My baby... Is my baby...”

  “Your baby is fine. An eight-pound baby boy.”

  I closed my eyes and moaned, re-living the slash of the scalpel. I moaned louder, burning pain shooting from my navel all the way down my abdomen, along the incision.

  “I’ll give you something for pain. Grab the rail and see if you can roll over.” I did as she said, and she gave me a shot.

  “Now, that should help.”

  “Water... please.” My throat felt as if it was on fire.

  “No water. I’ll get you a wet washcloth.” She moved away and was soon back with the washcloth.

  My hands shook as I took it from her.

  “Your baby’s fine. You’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

  I sucked on the wet cloth, trying to get a drop of water. “Is my family here?” My voice was so hoarse that I couldn’t be sure she understood me.

  “Not yet. I’m sure someone will be here soon.”

  “When can I see my baby?”

  “We’ll bring him to you when we get you in a room.”

  I nodded and then thankfully, I slept.

  I awoke again, and this time, they wheeled me to a room. After I was settled in, a nurse spoke.

  “I’m Nurse Jackson. I’ll be looking after you.”

  “Thank you,” I said hoarsely. “Please, may I see my baby?”

  “Let me take your temperature.” She held out the thermometer, and I obediently opened my mouth.

  The room was green and had a large window framed with white curtains. It was dark outside.

  Nurse Jackson took the thermometer from my mouth and wrote down some figures on the clipboard cradled in one arm.

  “We’ll bring in your baby soon. Have you picked out a name for your son?”

  Michael and I had talked about it when he was home. We both agreed it was a perfect choice. “James Colton.” I wanted to name him for two of the finest men I had ever known, my father and my uncle.

  She nodded. “I need to get some the information we were unable to get when you were admitted, Mrs...?”

  “Hutchinson. My husband’s name is Michael.”

  “May I ask where he is?”

  “He’s in the Marines... in the Pacific, somewhere.”

  “We’ll contact the Red Cross to let him know you delivered. Do you have your ID card with you?”

  “No... it’s in my purse.” If I had brought my purse, I had forgotten it in the truck... I couldn’t remember... perhaps I had left it at home. “I don’t have it with me,” I said, feebly.

  “Do you have other family or friends? Anyone we can contact?”

  “Yes. What time is it?”

  She glanced at the watch pinned to her lapel. “It’s seven o’clock.”

  Seven o’clock? Momma should have been home hours ago and Zeke from school. And the funeral had been over hours ago, too. Surely Laurie had been to the house to check on me. A sense of abandonment swept over me.

  “Please contact my aunt and uncle... my uncle is Colt Bryan. They don’t have a telephone, but you can call the Five Oaks General Store... no... call my boss, Dr. Driscoll. I have his number, and he’ll get in touch with them.”

  I gave her the number, and she patted my hand.

  “The doctor will be in to see you shortly. I’ll go make the call.”

  “Thank you.” Tears stood in my eyes but I blinked them away. She left, and I shifted to a more comfortable position. Pain from the incision shot through me, and I moaned. The window was closed, and it was stifling, and yet I trembled with cold. The temperature must have dropped. I shivered and pulled the covers more tightly around me. I needed another blanket. I’d have to remember to ask for one when the nurse came back. I shivered until my teeth chattered. And I prayed and recited Psalm twenty-three and must have dozed off.

  A knock startled me awake, and the doctor entered followed by Nurse Jackson.

  “Mrs. Hutchinson?”

  I nodded my head.

  “How do you feel?”

  “I’m all right... just cold.”

  He studied me for a long minute before pulling out his stethoscope and listening to my heart and lungs as I shivered.

  Without me asking, Nurse Jackson brought an extra blanket and tucked it around me.

  The doctor had taken a step back, and his hand cradled his chin. “You’re running a fever. Were you sick before coming in?”

  Through chattering teeth, I answered him. “Only a broken foot.”

  Nurse Jackson pulled back the blankets and sheet, and he examined the cast.

  “How long have you had this?”

  “Two weeks.”

  He ran his hand around the top of the cast. “Nurse, we need to get this off. Her foot may be infected.”

  “Infected?”

  “Don’t worry, Mrs. Hutchinson. We’ll get the cast removed, and then we can evaluate the situation. Your heart sounds good, your lungs are clear. We’ll have you better in no time.”

  “Yes, sir. May I see my baby now?”

  “Let’s get you taken care of first. Your baby is a fine, healthy boy, and he’s in good hands.”

  I nodded, believing him, but they were not my hands. My arms felt so empty.

  When the doctor left, I heard a commotion outside my door.

  The nurse’s voice carried to me. “No, you cannot all go in there. Only two of you.”

  There was mumbling and grumbling before the door opened and Aunt Jenny and Laurie rushed in, my cousin scurrying around the end of the bed to stand on the side next to the window.

  Aunt Jenny laid her hand to my face, her eyes brimming with tears. I struggled to sit, but Laurie pushed my shoulders back down.

  She shook her head at me. “The nurse said for
you not to sit up.”

  I couldn’t force a single word pass the lump in my throat, could only shift my gaze from one to the other, questioning with my eyes.

  “That woman!” Laurie exclaimed, as if she had deciphered my meaning.

  “Laurie...” Aunt Jenny warned. She glanced down at me. “She means Molly. We’re not sure exactly what happened. All we know is that she wrecked Michael’s truck.”

  My eyes widened. “Momma? Is she all right.”

  Aunt Jenny sighed, a long exasperated sigh and clucked her tongue. “She’s fine.”

  “Unfortunately,” Laurie said.

  Aunt Jenny shot her a hard look. “Laurie, if you can’t watch your tongue, you can wait outside.”

  “How about the truck?” I asked.

  Laurie shook her head. “It’s done for. Sorry.”

  Michael’s truck. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

  “Aunt Jenny, my baby...” A sob escaped, and I swallowed hard again.

  Laurie grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Is something wrong with the baby?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know... I don’t think so... They won’t... let me see him...” I tried to speak between my sobs.

  “Oh, shug.” Aunt Jenny rubbed my arm. Her eyes registered shock. “You haven’t seen your baby?”

  I could only shake my head.

  Aunt Jenny marched from the room. Laurie released my hand. “I’ll go so some of the others can come in.”

  I swiped at the tears. “Others? Who?”

  “Daddy, Mr. Paul, Mr. Aaron, Marla, Dan, Grace, and Zeke... oh, and Walter, Velma, and Dr. Driscoll are all here. Not sure if the nurse will let any of them in.”

  “Velma? Dr. Driscoll?” My heart constricted at the thought of so many being out there. “Laurie hand me a washrag, please.” I wiped away my tears.

  Laurie patted my hand and left. Voices murmured again — I guessed they conferred on who should come in next. When the door opened, it was Marla.

  She didn’t stay long for she was soon shooed out by Nurse Jackson.

  The nurse gave me a shot, checked my pulse and temperature, and had a look at my leg. She smiled at me. “Temperature is down slightly. With a little rest, you should feel better tomorrow. No more visitors today.”