by Emily Woods
With light steps, she hurried back to the house and up to her room. She would dress more simply today and show them all that she was ready to fit in, and ready to work for her keep.
Chapter 7
Elise managed to finish her morning ritual in less than ten minutes before heading down to see what she could do in the way of breakfast. With so many men around, Marge was sure to be happy for an extra set of hands.
The older woman was already bustling around by the time she appeared, and gave her a broad smile.
“Well now, did you sleep alright?”
“Very well indeed,” Elise replied truthfully. “Ships and trains do not make good places for sleeping. And this good bed helped me sleep.”
Marge grinned. “I can barely remember my own trip out here now as it was more than twenty years ago, but I believe that.”
Elise knew there was more to the story, and she hoped to learn it, but she wanted to be of assistance first. “And what can I do for you this morning? What are we making for breakfast?”
With a little tut-tut, Marge waved her away. “I have this well in hand. You go check on Kate and see how she's doing this morning.”
“But I can do both, can I not?” she implored. It wasn't that she was reluctant to help Kate with anything she needed, but the prickling sensation of her subterfuge once again assailed her. These fine people believed her to be experienced and trained in understanding pregnancy and all that went with it. She did know a little, and as a precaution, had packed two large volumes of midwifery in her trunks and even managed to get halfway through the smaller one on the train, but it didn't give her a comprehensive view of the whole process. She was much more comfortable in the kitchen.
“Maybe,” Marge replied, giving her a strange look. “But Kate first, okay? She's more important than food.”
Mentally, Elise scolded herself for sounding so callous when all she'd been feeling was trepidation.
“Certainly. I will see what I can do for my cousin and then return to help.”
Before Marge could question her any further, Elise hurried to knock on Kate's door and opened it without delay. The sight before her made her sigh. Kate was still asleep, her golden hair fanned out across her pillow. Elise had tried not to envy such beauty, but it was hard when it was so apparent. Her own dark brown hair had been praised by her parents and admirers alike, but she thought it could never compare to the silken tresses of her cousin.
“Good morning,” she said softly, walking over to the curtains and drawing them open a little. The irony of her current position didn't escape her. Just about a month ago, she'd been the one lying in bed and waiting for her maid to wake her with soft words and a drawing of the curtains. “Did you sleep well?”
Kate mumbled something and wiped a hand across her eyes. “Is it morning already?” she asked, her voice hoarse from sleep. “Ugh. I feel like I just fell asleep. I know I'm not that far along, but I feel like the baby's so active that I can hardly get any rest.”
Elise's eyes widened in surprise and pleasure. “You can feel the baby so much? And it's only seven months? What a wonder.”
Giving her a sideways glance, Kate frowned a little. “Isn't that normal? I mean, do you think there's something wrong?”
“Oh no! I-I just meant, how lovely for you.” She'd forgotten for a moment that she was meant to be an expert. Tonight, she resolved to stay up and study her books instead of falling into a heap on her bed. “Do you think you can eat? Can I help you with...anything?”
As she said the word, she realized that she might be required to help Kate with her chamber pot. The thought caused her stomach to roil, but she just gritted her teeth together and forced a smile.
“No, I can manage everything. Could you give me a little privacy? I'll call when I'm done.”
“Certainly.” Grateful as she was not to have to be so intimate with her cousin on her first full day, she realized that she would probably be expected to deal with the cleanup afterward. Again, her privileged upbringing had prevented her from being acquainted with such things, but she was determined not to shrink from them now. Her cousin was depending on her.
“Is Mama awake?” a little voice asked.
Elise looked down to see two bright eyes looking up at her.
“Yes, most certainly, but she is, uh, attending to her business. Perhaps you would like to wait for her in the kitchen?”
Maddie skipped away, and Elise sighed. What a gift the child was. She remembered the letters in which Kate had told her that Maddie had been traumatized by the fire that had consumed her own parents' home and hadn't been able to speak for quite some time. However, the girl now appeared to have completely recovered and lit the house with her joyful exuberance.
“Okay!” Kate called out and Elise reentered the room, working hard not to wrinkle her nose at the smell. “Sorry about that,” Kate grimaced. “But I guess you're used to this kind of thing, what with all your experience. You’ve probably seen a lot of women who were ordered on bed rest.”
“Perfectly fine,” Elise trilled as she lifted the pot up with a brave smile. “And, uh, where should I...?”
“We have an outhouse set back a ways from the house.” Her eyes were still apologetic. “I would have asked Luke or Marge, but you were the first one in.”
“No matter,” Elise replied, covering the pot with the lid and whisking it away while holding it as far away from her face as possible. “I shall be right back.”
The task was done quickly, and Elise even managed to rinse out the pot without too much fuss using some water from the rain barrel. It still was an unpleasant job, but she surprised herself with her pragmatism. It had to be done, so she would do it.
After seeing to the rest of her toilette, Kate was ready to be assisted to the kitchen. Just as she sat, the men tumbled in, one after the other, hungry and eager for breakfast. Elise quickly worked to help Marge bring the large platters of food the table and set them before the men.
“Smells good!” Thomas murmured appreciatively when she put a plate of bacon in front of him. “Did you make this?”
“No,” she said with a small smile. “I was, uh, otherwise occupied.” She glanced at Kate, who gave her a half-smile.
After prayer, the men peppered her with questions about breakfast in Italy. She told them how they mostly just ate bread and drank strong coffee.
“I heard about Italian coffee. Is it much stronger than ours?” Luke asked.
“Sì, I mean, yes. That is correct. It is called, cafe espresso,” she explained, taking a sip of the brew before her and trying not to wince. “It is very strong and wakes you up very quick.” She determined she’d have to drink several cups of this coffee to equal the same feeling. Perhaps she could convince Marge to let her make the coffee tomorrow.
They laughed a little and then went onto other topics like her schooling and whatnot. After a few minutes, Marge called a stop to it.
“Let the poor girl eat, would you? She hasn't had a bite since she sat down!”
Shame-faced, the men turned their attention to their own food and talked among themselves, allowing her to try the pancakes Marge had prepared. Although she was somewhat accustomed to such food, it was still different from that of her home country.
“These look delicious,” she commented, spreading some jam on them and trying to roll them up. “But not so easy to roll.”
The others looked at her in bewilderment.
“Is that how you eat them in Italy?” Maddie finally asked.
“Yes, cara. But I can see that I must do something a little different here.” She saw the others were simply cutting their pancakes into pieces and popping those morsels into her mouth. “I am happy to try.”
The texture and taste was different, but no less delectable than her cook's breakfast pancakes.
“You'll have to make some Italian ones tomorrow,” Thomas said with a grin. “Then we can see how you eat them.”
“Cheeky!” Marge scold
ed. “You'll eat whatever's put in front you and be happy to have it!”
“Yes'm,” he said meekly, ducking his head. “Yours are real good, Miss Marge.”
At first, Elise wondered if this was an argument, but she could see there was no real anger in the exchange. Rather they were playful with one another, much like she was with her own family.
“Is it very different from back home?”
Elise looked up in surprise to see that it was John who asked her this question. She hadn't looked him in the eye yet, afraid of his scrutiny, but she couldn't avoid the question.
“Uh, yes, but still very good. I would like to learn this recipe.”
“I’m sure Marge would be happy to teach you,” he replied.
Taken aback by his almost friendly remark, Elise fell silent. Where was the harsh man from yesterday? Had he only been tired?
She certainly hoped it was the latter. Perhaps in her own fatigue, she'd perceived him to be suspicious when kindness was his actual character. When she caught his eye again, he gave her a little smile, seemingly compassionate, and her mind settled on it. Yesterday, she'd just been overwrought with exhaustion and worry. He must be a nice man after all.
Over the course of the day, John had ample opportunity to pray for Elise, but not much chance to talk to her. It seemed that all the other hands were bent on monopolizing her attention. By the end of the day, he was frustrated with them and said so once they had retired to the bunkhouse for the night.
“You guys should back off Elise a little,” he remarked, trying to sound casual. “I know she’s a novelty, but she's still a person. Don't badger her so much.”
Thomas and another hand named Carl looked at him with interest. “I thought you didn't care about her. You said so,” Thomas replied.
“I'm not saying that I want to marry her,” he growled back. “But give her a bit of breathing space, for crying out loud!”
“You know she’s nearly fifteen years younger than you, right?” Carl asked a bit hesitantly. “Much closer to our age than yours.”
“What did I just say?” John's eyelids lowered dangerously. “Yeah, I know I'm older, and I look at her like a little sister. So, if I'm the big brother, then you all need to respect what I say.”
No one else dared to respond to that comment. As their boss, John commanded respect. If the hands didn't listen to him, there could be serious injuries on the ranch, or even death. Of course this wasn't the same, but over the past five years, John had proven himself to be a good mentor and a help to each man in one way or another, so they all murmured their understanding and willingness to listen to him now.
“Good,” he said, his voice still a bit brusque. “Then let's all get some sleep. Morning will be here before long.”
Soon after the lights went out, a few snores could be heard, but John also detected some whispering. It was coming from the far end of the bunk, but he was pretty sure he heard Elise's name mentioned. His ire rose again, but he refrained from any more scolding. If he said too much, the men would suspect that he had feelings for the girl.
Which, of course, he didn't.
Chapter 8
Elise poured over the small words in her huge volume of obstetrics, squinting to read by candlelight. She hoped that Kate and her husband wouldn't mind the expense, but if they did, she could afford to buy some more candles.
One text was much more imposing than the other, so she’d started with the slimmer volume first and was now onto the larger one. Over the course of three hours, she gained a basic overview of pregnancy and childbirth. By the time she had finished scanning the contents, she felt overwhelmed with all the things that could go wrong. A tremor of apprehension ran through her. Could she really do the things that the book described if it came down to it? Would she be able to do stitches, control bleeding and so forth?
Worry threatened to overtake her senses, and she slammed the book shut. Folding her trembling hands, she pleaded with God to help her find a way out of this mess. And if He didn't, that He would grant her the wisdom she'd need for the task at hand.
Without warning, a small voice popped up in the back of her mind telling her to run away and never look back. For a very brief moment, she entertained it, but only because the job before her was more daunting than she could have imagined. Her own brother's birth had been remarkably easy by the standards outlined in the text, but she'd read that so many others resulted in complications of one sort or another for either mother or baby.
“God, forgive me,” she whispered in Italian. “I didn't know what I was saying.” Of course that had been true when she'd written, but she could have very easily corrected either John at the station or made it clear when she arrived that there had been a misunderstanding. However, now it was too late. Questions would arise and she would be forced to tell them everything, something she wasn’t sure she could do. Somehow, her escape from Italy to America shamed her, and she felt like a coward for abandoning her family merely because she did not want to accept the proposal of an undesirable man. Her selfishness threatened to overwhelm her and she was sure the occupants of the house would not be able to understand. No, she would have to keep her secret.
“Show me what to do, Eternal One,” she begged in prayer. Her heart was tormented, and her stomach was in knots.
There was no discernible reply, and Elise nearly despaired, but then a verse came to mind. “Lo, I am with you, even unto the end of the world.” And then another came before she'd finished reciting the first. “Do not be afraid. Do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” And then another popped into her mind. “Be strong and take hope, all you who hope in the Lord.”
When the truth of these verses penetrated her anxiety, a sense of peace and assurance washed over her aching heart.
“I will not despair, for You are with me,” she prayed fervently. “You will give me the strength I need to fulfill this task. And Lord, I pray if it is Your will, allow me to keep my secret.”
At that point, she vowed to be honest with everyone. She would not tell more than was asked, but neither would she lie. Deceit had no place in the heart of a believer.
After that, studying came easier, and the information seemed to stay in her brain. She imagined the various scenarios and played out the solution to each one in her mind a number of times. Finally, when her eyelids refused to stay open, she snuffed out the candle and crawled into bed, her heart, soul, and mind at ease.
“Elise!” Kate called the next morning. “Can you come please?”
Her cousin's voice was strident as though she were in great pain. Elise prayed for wisdom and guidance. “Coming!” she replied, dropping the cloth she was using to clean the breakfast dishes. When she entered the room, she scanned her cousin’s face and body for signs of distress. Kate had her hands clasped under her belly and her eyes were wide. “I fear something is happening,” she whimpered.
Elise saw a small pool of blood on the bed and rushed forward. “Let us get your legs in the air now.” She wasn't sure if that was the right thing to do, but the idea of using gravity to help them just seemed logical. Praying, she hoped it wouldn't harm the baby or make anything worse.
As she looked into Kate's white face, she remembered something she'd read. “Do you have any spicy pepper? Red pepper, I mean? I cannot think of its name just now.”
“Do you mean cayenne? I don't know. Maybe. Marge uses it in chili sometimes.”
Elise turned to see Marge coming into the room and wringing her hands. “I'm afraid I used it the last of it,” she confessed. Elise's mind raced.
“What about cinnamon? Do you have any of that?”
The older woman nodded. “Plenty!”
“Then please mix one spoon of that in warm water and add some honey. This may help.” Marge scurried to do Elise's bidding while Kate continued to groan. “Do you have great pain?”
Kate shook her head. “Not really. I'm just so worried.”
“Yes
, this is natural, but we must pray to our God. Let us do this now.”
Both women bowed their heads and called on God to help them. Holding hands, they prayed that the baby would not be hurt in any way, and if it was God's will, that He would allow the baby to be born normally and in the right time.
“It's way too early for the baby to be born, isn't it?” Kate questioned, a little more calmly than before. “I've heard of some premature babies surviving, but not too many, right?”
A statistic came to Elise's mind. “The baby should be at least thirty weeks before it can be born normally, but these facts do not know our God. We will continue to pray and He will answer as He chooses.”
“Yes,” Kate whispered as Marge reappeared with the concoction Elise requested. “Always. No matter what, and in every situation.”
“Drink this, please.” Elise held her head and helped Kate drink the strange beverage. “And now, I think we should say that you must stay in bed. No more getting up for meals at all.”
Lines of worry still stretched across Kate's face, but her eyes were trusting. “I'm so glad that you're here and know what to do.”
Elise swallowed hard and prayed that Kate’s words would prove true. “And I am glad to be here. I will do whatever I can, but I think we should ask someone to fetch the doctor. It is always good to know more.”
Even though the bleeding stopped and Kate seemed to be more at ease, Thomas was sent to town to bring the doctor back. Only then was Elise able to relax. Internally, she praised God for the guidance He'd sent, and beseeched Him to continue. She would keep reading and doing everything that she could for her dear cousin.
The doctor came along a few hours later and brought some medicine with him, instructing Elise on how it should be taken.
“It's good to know she has you,” he commented. “There aren't a lot of women in these parts, especially with higher education.”