by Caroline Lee
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When he knocked on Sebastian’s front door, the wood gave under his fist, swinging open to reveal a dark foyer. He exchanged glances with Annie, and shifted his bags to one hand in order to take hers in reassurance. They stepped into the house together, glad to be out of the light dawn sleet that had made Cheyenne seem so unwelcoming. The train station—and the city—had seemed so gray and dismal; it was a bad omen that there wasn’t more Christmas cheer around.
“Hello?” He’d expected Brixley, or the maid Sarah, or one of the other servants to answer the door. But maybe they’d been given the day off?
“Reggie’s here!” He heard Serena before he saw her, pulling his older brother from one of the side parlors. She dropped Sebastian’s hand to wrap her arms tightly around Annie. Annie hugged her back, and Reggie was disconcerted to see the heavy circles under his sister-in-law’s beautiful eyes.
When Sebastian came forward to greet them, Reggie cut right to the point. “This is the saddest excuse for a Christmas morning I’ve ever seen.” They shook hands, Sebastian’s expression wary and a bit disapproving. “Are we too late?” He kept his voice light, not wanting to make things worse.
His brother glanced at his wife, who was signing to Annie, and frowned. “You’re just in time, it would seem. Wendy’s upstairs now.”
“What happened?”
“Last week she was watching Nate work with one of the young horses, and it kicked her hard in the stomach.” Reggie tried to hide his wince, but his brother saw it. “Yeah, it was bad. They got her to Doctor Hairston, but she’s been bleeding since, and he says the baby’s stopped moving.” A pit opened in Reggie’s stomach. It was going to be a repeat of Maria Gudowicz’s birth, he knew it. “The doctor told her to just stay lying down—Serena moved her into the guest room upstairs—until her body’s decided…”
His brother trailed off, but Reggie had seen enough births gone wrong that he knew what Doctor Hairston meant. “Until her body decides to reject the baby.” Sebastian nodded, and Reggie decided that he’d never seen his brother look so gray and sallow. “How far along is she?”
Sebastian glanced at his wife, who sent him a comforting glance over Annie’s shoulder, and cleared his throat. “Uh, she was due in late January, I think.”
“And has there been any change since she arrived here?” Reggie tried to keep his questions professional, as if he wasn’t talking about a talented young woman whom his family adored. Whom he’d met several times, and admired. Who was upstairs laboring to give birth to a dead baby on Christmas morning.
Sebastian swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck, like he did when he was nervous. “Well, yeah. That’s why we’re all up and standing around. Nate says that Wendy’s contractions are in a pattern now, and Molly has sent for the doctor. She thinks this is it.”
Reggie exhaled, not realizing that he’d been holding his breath. Wendy had managed to hold on this long, and it did seem serendipitous—miraculous even—that they’d arrived when they did. Rolling his shoulders, he mentally prepared for what lay ahead. “Well, all right then. I’ll head on up.”
“Why? Just wait down here with us.” Sebastian’s eyes narrowed slightly as he watched his wife sign silently to Annie. There were tears on Serena’s cheeks while she signed. Whatever she’d been telling Annie, it wasn’t good.
Reggie tried to draw the other man’s attention back to him, still not sure he’d forgiven his brother for the way he’d treated Annie, however good his intentions had been. “Because, Sebastian. I’m a doctor. I’m here, and I have my bag—” He put his valise along the wall and hefted his little black bag that he took everywhere, “—and I’m going up to see what I can do.”
Still frowning, Sebastian reached over and snagged one of Annie’s hands in his own. He gestured curtly with his other hand. “Stop that, Annie. Speak normally.”
Even though he knew the scorn in his brother’s expression was a result of the strain he must be under, Reggie was hard-pressed not to condemn him for the way Annie’s graceful fingers stuttered to a stop and her back straightened. Knowing how angry she must be, her poise impressed him. “I was speaking normally, Sebastian. I am sorry that you could not understand me.”
Serena slid to her husband’s side, tucking a handkerchief back into her cuff. She signed while she spoke. “We know, dear. He knows. We’re just…” They were just stressed, exhausted, worried. Snapping at each other. Letting old hurts and prejudices surface and blame them on the situation.
Annie was still glaring up at Sebastian, and Reggie wondered if she’d be able to forgive him for what he—backed by the scientific community and doctors like Reggie himself—had forced her to put aside years ago. But maybe now wasn’t the time to demand an apology.
Reggie reached over and lightly touched the back of her hand. When she looked at him, he saw the bleakness and sorrow in her expression. He took a deep breath, cocked one brow, and jerked his chin towards the upstairs bedrooms, asking the question without words. When she straightened her shoulders and nodded, he knew she’d understood.
Still holding her hand, he moved towards the stairs, but his brother blocked their path. “You’re taking Annie up there with you?”
“Yes. She’s assisted me before.” Once, but he wasn’t going to mention that part. She deserved to be there.
“She’s assisted you with births?”
“Yes. She’s intelligent and capable and apparently much stronger than you suspect.”
The two of them stood nose-to-nose, and Reggie watched the disbelief and anger in his brother’s eyes slowly change to grudging acceptance. Acceptance that his little brother was now a capable doctor, on equal footing with him? Or acceptance that Annie wasn’t the delicate little girl she’d been nine years ago, who needed protection and control? Or acceptance that despite doing what he’d thought best, Sebastian had made her change for the worse?
That last acceptance might be too much to hope for so quickly, but Reggie knew Annie would prove the truth of it to his brother—even if it took years—and he vowed to see it done.
He reached an arm around Annie’s shoulders and pulled her close. Serena made a little noise of understanding when she saw them standing so close together, and Reggie sent her a grateful little smile. Maybe she’d be able to explain a few things to his pig-headed brother.
“We’re going upstairs, brother. Together.” Sebastian wasn’t happy about it, but when his wife nudged him out of the way, he went. Reggie glanced down at Annie, saw her determined nod, and led the way up the fine staircase.
It had been two years since the last time he was in this house, but Annie seemed to know where she was going. She pulled out of his embrace—he felt a little heavier without her touch—and rushed towards one of the pretty white doors. When she pushed through, he heard someone call her name excitedly, and by the time he got into the room, Annie was hugging her oldest sister Molly like her life depended on it.
On the bed lay a woman that Reggie wouldn’t have recognized as Wendy. Her short curls were plastered to her head, and her face was pale and hollow. If she hadn’t been holding the hand of a worried-looking Indian man who Reggie knew was Nate Barker—Molly’s brother-in-law—he wouldn’t have guessed the woman in bed was the same smiling, blushing bride he’d congratulated on his trip out here four years ago.
When she weakly lifted her arm towards her younger sister, Annie flew to the bed and gathered Wendy in her arms. Nate stood from his bedside vigil and crossed the room to shake Reggie’s hand. “Thanks for bringing her home, Reggie.” He looked even worse than his wife, and Reggie knew that the last few days had taken their toll. Heck, after so many miscarriages and dashed hopes, life had taken its toll. But he shook Nate’s hand warmly.
“We’re both glad to be here.”
Nate snorted exhaustedly. “Not the best time to visit. Sorry.”
“No.” He hefted his little black bag, and clasped Nate on the shoulder. “I’m not glad to
be here as Reggie. I’m here as Dr. Carderock.”
He saw Nate’s eyes drop to the bag, and travel up his fine—if wrinkled—suit. “Oh yeah.” He sounded skeptical. “I keep forgetting…”
“Yes.” Reggie’s brow rose and his lip quirked unintentionally. “I get the feeling that happens a lot. But I am a doctor, and do have experience with difficult births. I only get called in for difficult births, in fact. Annie can help me too.”
“Annie?” Molly was sitting beside the bed, and her younger sisters. “You think Annie will help?” She signed as she spoke, and Reggie decided that he liked this family’s habit of including their youngest member.
He saw his love’s beautiful eyes roll, and saw a ghost of a smile cross Wendy’s face. He turned slightly, so that they’d all be able to read his lips, and vowed again that he’d learn to sign as well. “Annie has helped before. She’s a good assistant.” He saw pride in her smile, and knew she understood what he was saying. “She’s a good partner.”
“Is she, now?” Molly sounded speculative, but before she could continue, Wendy moaned and grabbed for Annie’s hand. The contractions were coming closer together, and Reggie knew it was time.
He prepared himself, and Annie, and the room, while they counted the minutes between Wendy’s pants and moans. He suggested Nate might want to go wait with Sebastian downstairs, but the look the man gave him had him swallowing his words. He turned before Nate could see his slight smile; it was obvious the other man loved his wife, and was determined to support her through this ordeal.
She’d need it; Wendy was still bleeding—it was no wonder she was so pale and weak—and he couldn’t find any evidence the baby was still alive. No movement, no heartbeat. Only years of delivering bad news to families sitting by bedsides kept Reggie’s heart from breaking when he explained this to Nate. For his part, the other man stoically nodded, and gripped his wife’s hand a little tighter. “Just keep Wendy safe, doc.”
Molly was openly weeping by now, but Wendy wanted both of her sisters with her, so Reggie asked the older woman to sit beside the bed and hold her sister’s other hand. Annie he put to work, fetching and checking and folding. She was dry-eyed and determined, and he found something else to love about her: the way she could worry and fret and still do what needed to be done.
When the time came, the sun was well up, and none of them noticed that the sleet had stopped. “You’re going to have to push, Wendy. I’m sorry.” I’m sorry I can’t help more. Sorry that she was going to have to go through pain and blood and tears to bring a dead baby into the world.
She pushed, and screamed, and Molly cried, and Nate was stark white under his deep tan. Reggie made sure to point that out to Annie, and noticed her keeping an eye on her brother-in-law. He liked that she understood, despite her worry for her sister.
One great push, and the baby’s head emerged; a perfectly formed little head of dark curls and closed eyes. He had to swallow past his dry throat, but his voice still cracked when he urged her to push again. With one great scream, she pushed, and Reggie was holding a tiny, flawless little girl with her father’s dark skin.
He’d sat beside other patients; he’d birthed other dead babes. But this was Annie’s niece. This was Nate’s daughter. This was too close; too important. It was too much. Blinking past his tears, he passed the body to Annie, who stood by with a soft white cloth to wrap her in, and looked up to meet Nate’s eyes. The other man was crying too, silent tears dripping down his cheeks, and the hope dying in his eyes when saw Reggie’s expression. He looked down at his wife, and Reggie got to work doing what needed to be done to ensure Wendy would survive.
He almost didn’t feel the tap on his shoulder, he was so intent on the shared grief in the room and his small part to try to make it better. But when she smacked him in the back of his head, he dropped the gauze and swung around. Sure enough, Annie was standing behind him, holding the tiny bundle, amazement and desperation mixed together in her expression.
What was so important that he had to stop caring for her sister?
“She is not dead.”
She wasn’t dead. “What?” Nate’s croak echoed his.
There was silence in the room for a moment before Reggie understood. Then he threw himself off of the stool at the foot of the bed, and grabbed the baby from Annie’s arms. She followed him to the bureau, where they had laid out some towels, and pointed to the baby’s still-wet chest. “She is not breathing, but I heard her heart beat.”
“What?” Nate’s question was louder this time, but Molly shushed him, and Reggie was thankful. He bent his ear to the infant’s chest, and Annie was right. There was a tiny heartbeat, too small and weak to be any good, but there. He opened the baby’s mouth, tilted her tiny head back, and swept his finger down her throat, to clear out any mucus or liquid. Then he blew down her throat, flipped her over on her stomach, and thumped her twice between the miniature shoulder blades. When he rolled her back over—ignoring the boneless way the baby’s limbs flopped—he tilted her head back, gently covered the little nose, and blew down her throat again. He was about to flip her over again when the tiny body jerked once, twice of its own accord.
She breathed, a gasp that sounded loud in the otherwise quiet room. He held his own breath, until the baby inhaled again on her own and opened her eyes. They were dark blue, the same as her mother’s. The same as Annie’s.
He looked up, and met those dark blue eyes over the tiny naked body between them, and saw that she was smiling through her tears. He didn’t think he could speak then, but knew he didn’t need to. “Thank you,” he mouthed, and her shoulders jerked with a silent sob as her smile grew. Thank you.
Then the baby let out a wail, a weak one to match her body, but a cry nonetheless. It was immediately followed by a sob from the bed, and Wendy’s whimper. Reggie gestured to Annie to wrap the infant up again, and he watched as she carefully laid her in her mother’s arms.
They stood together—side by side, partners—as Nate helped Wendy examine their daughter. She was too small to nurse, and Wendy’s milk hadn’t come in—sometimes it never did, with births like this—and still so, so weak. There was a good chance she wouldn’t survive the day, being born so early. But she was breathing now, crying, and Wendy was finally holding her first child.
Reggie didn’t mind admitting to himself that there were tears in his eyes when Nate looked over at him again. “Thanks, doc.” His voice was rough, and there was more there, unsaid, but Reggie understood. “Thanks for getting my girls through this.”
They’re not through this yet, Reggie wanted to say, but didn’t. Couldn’t ruin the joy he saw in Nate’s expression. After all, maybe the little one was strong enough to survive. The good Lord knew that sometimes the weak-looking little ones surprised them. He pulled Annie closer. And it was the seasons of miracles; they’d just experienced one.
So he just cleared his throat. “What are you going to name her?”
Wendy spoke for the first time, not able to tear her gaze from her daughter’s tiny angry face. “Hope. We’re naming her Hope.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
As Christmas mornings went, it was one of the better ones. Annie spent the day in the guest room with Wendy and her little family, marveling at Hope’s tiny perfection and forcing broth, water, and beet soup down her sister. Wendy was too weak to even sign much, but Annie didn’t mind. It was nice just to be there, to be helpful.
The midwife wasn’t happy about having to leave her family on such a special day, but her smiles were warm when she saw the baby, and from what Annie could understand as the woman bustled around, she was pleased with Reggie’s work. She’d brought some tea for Wendy, and milk for little Hope, and showed them how to properly care for the glass bottles and rubber nipples. As she left, she promised that she’d be back the next day to check on mother and daughter.
Annie had even had a chance to feed the little babe, with Nate hovering by anxiously while Wendy slept. She was so small
that her father could carry her in one hand, but Annie cradled Hope delicately, gently. She couldn’t help but remember Maria’s ordeal, and the sad ending. But Hope was strong—her red glare and tight hold on Annie’s finger told her as much—and she was their own little Christmas miracle. She placed a soft kiss on the infant’s brow, and said a little prayer of thanksgiving that Reggie had arrived in time.
Reggie… Every time she thought about him, and about the expression on his face that morning after breathing life into her precious niece, Annie got a little choked up. If she hadn’t loved him before, she would’ve then. His look of awe and gratitude when he’d gazed down at her had been like nothing she’d ever experienced. No one, not even her family, had ever looked at her that way.
*Thinking about Reggie, aren’t you?* Molly didn’t speak, because Wendy was sleeping, but she smiled at Annie’s questioning expression. *I can tell from the look in your eyes.*
Annie carefully handed the baby back to her father—In all of the years she’d spent working beside Nate, she’d never seen him treat anything so reverently as Hope—and took the time to straighten her travel-worn dress. When she crossed towards her sister, she saw that Molly wasn’t fooled. If anything, the older woman’s grin was wider, more knowing.
*He is downstairs, in case you were wondering. Ash and the boys were waiting down the street, and are probably toasting him drunk by now.* Annie smiled at the thought of Reggie accepting the praise due to him. Molly’s husband—Nate’s older brother—was reticent, but she loved him dearly, and he was a good friend to those whom he liked.
*Where is Rose?* Molly’s sons were half-grown, but her youngest Rose was still their princess. Annie would’ve thought that she and her best friend Mae would be here oohing and ahhing over the new baby.
*She is staying with the McLeods, but I sent word already. I didn’t want her to be here if…* Molly glanced at the bed, at the little family, and Annie nodded. Neither Rose nor Mae or her sister Jeanie needed to see what a hard birth was like, not yet.