Beneath the Heavens
Page 29
Esther ignored her sobs and went to place pillows underneath Mary’s back and neck. She needed her more upright so Mary could breath. Then Esther grabbed a jar of oil from her basket to help make way for the baby.
Mary screamed, “I’m dying! I’m dying!”
Esther checked the baby. The head was right there. “Mary, tell me when you feel pressure. Right now, I want you to take a deep breath: In nice and easy and out. In and slowly out.”
Mary inhaled and exhaled with a loud moan. “Oh pressure! I feel like a cannon ball is coming out!”
Esther nodded. Mary’s legs were shaking and so weak she could not keep them up. Ignoring the screaming muscle in her hip, Esther placed Mary’s legs on her shoulders. “All right Mary, I need you to push—one big push.”
Mary grunted and pushed, yelling out as she did.
“Stop!” Esther commanded and then quickly rubbed oil around the opening, massaging and moving it with her fingers to prevent tearing. “Good girl, small push now… good… now stop and pant,” more massaging.
“I can’t do this!” Mary cried, her body shaking.
“Mary you are doing great. Now deep breath and another big push.”
Mary groaned and exhaled into a push that melded into a scream. Esther tensed; there was a lot of blood. Something was wrong.
“Alright Mary. Pant… pant.” The crown of wet blonde hair spattered with blood was rubbed with more oil.
“I gotta push now!” Mary screamed.
“Wait Mary, hold it, hold it or you’ll tear… a few more pants.”
“I hate you!” Mary screamed and began to push.
“Mary!” Esther cried, but there was nothing she could do as flesh tore, allowing more blood to flow. Wrapping her hands gently around the head, Esther guided the newborn head out into the air. “One more push, Mary, good… good.”
A perfect slippery body slid gently into Esther’s arms, and Esther held the newborn close to her with one hand while skillfully cutting the umbilical cord with the other. The baby’s lungs flaunted their strength with a perfect cry. The color was rosy, the head a little cone shaped but not too bad. Esther wrapped the piece of heaven in a warm blanket. She walked over to Mary who looked away.
“I don’t want it,” Mary snapped, her face was pale—much too pale.
Esther kissed the baby and placed it in the cradle she still had from Michael’s newborn days. The baby cried and instinct told Esther it needed to nurse, but Mary would not take the poor golden-haired girl. She walked over to Mary in concern.
Too much blood. She had to stop the bleeding.
“I need to go find Toby… before he leaves without me.” Mary was trying to stand on her feet.
“No, Mary. I need to stitch you up. You are not well yet, and your baby needs feeding.”
Mary pushed her, hard. Esther, already weak from the pain in her hip, fell to the ground. Mary was shaking her head, her eyes wild like an animal: “Toby, I need Toby.” She stood and rushed through the bedroom door.
Esther scrambled onto her feet running after her. The sound of feet sloshing through puddles of blood freely spilling from Mary and the cries of a hungry newborn made her desperate to keep Mary still. “Mary, stop! Please!” she cried, grabbing the crazed woman’s arm.
Mary spun around and slapped Esther across the face. “Leave me alone. I hate you! Toby could’ve come back for me and he’s now gone.”
Esther stood her ground in the doorway, blocking Mary’s escape. “Mary, think of your child, please! That little girl in there needs you. She needs to eat.”
Mary grabbed Esther’s hair, trying to yank her out of the way. “Toby, I’m coming—I’m coming.”
Esther pulled Mary off, taking hold of her wrists. The woman, normally unstable, was now delirious with fatigue, blood loss, and pain. “Mary!” she shouted, “Listen to me, please. Your baby needs you, and you’re bleeding—you’re bleeding too much. You can’t abandon your daughter to—”
Mary spit at Esther. “I have no daughter. Toby did not want a baby, especially no worthless girl. I promised him I’d kill it if it were a girl.”
Mary’s skin was dropping color by the second, but Esther let go of her wrists with a face like stone; loathing and disgust flashed across her face. Silently she moved out of the way and let Mary go.
Eliza ran onto the porch, Michael behind her, as Mary’s ghostly pale body disappeared into the fields. “Esther! Esther, what—” Eliza halted in the doorway.
Esther was now rocking the baby, her face a reflection of frustrated pain and sorrow. She looked relieved to see Eliza.
Eliza looked at the bundle. She’s yours, an eternal inner voice told her. “Was that Mary I saw?”
“Eliza, listen carefully: I need for you to go get Melissa. She is not far and I need her now!”
“But—”
“I need Melissa now!” she almost shouted. Esther hardly ever raised her voice. Loathe to leave the baby, but frantic to help, Eliza twirled around—it was time to ride.
“Michael, my love,” Esther said gently to her wide-eyed son. “Can you be a big boy and go fetch me some goat’s milk and one of my little leather baby bags?”
“The kind they suck out of?”
Esther nodded. “Exactly. Goat’s milk and a baby bag… hurry.”
Dusk darkened the light when Melissa at last handed her gurgling son to Eliza and took Mary’s newborn to her breasts. The infant latched on with no encouragement, and all three women sighed with relief.
“Did she take any of the goat’s milk?” Melissa asked.
Esther nodded, feeling her face begin to bruise. She placed a tray of tea and sandwiches for Eliza, Melissa, and Michael, who had delved into one of his picture books.
“It took a few tries, but she is a determined eater,” Esther said calmly although her mind and soul were running around in chaos. She had let Mary go… bleeding, weak, crazed… Could she have done anything? Could she have helped her? Was that even in Esther’s power?
Melissa unlatched, handing the infant back to Eliza to burp. “What will happen to her? I can take her if—”
“No!” Eliza broke in, her eyes moist. “Please, I want her. I will take her.” She turned to Esther. “Everyone knows how I have longed for a child, and I doubt anyone would object.”
Esther smiled. “No one would Eliza, but—”
“I know it will take a lot of work, but just tell me what to do. I can sell the shop, or hire some girls to work there if I need to. I’ll do whatever it takes to care for her.”
Melissa grinned at the cooing baby. “Lucky little princess. You just struck gold for a momma.”
Esther smiled tenderly. Of course Eliza should have the baby: How right that felt. “You will need to feed her canned milk with a little sugar, but that will not be enough for her to grow and be healthy. I know all the nursing mothers… you will need to make rounds at least for the first month to those willing to give you breast milk.”
“They will all be willing,” Melissa said with a click of her tongue. “Everyone will just be so glad this little beauty escaped Toby and Mary that they’ll do anything to help.
“Your whole day will be feeding her, Eliza, between taking her to homes to get breast milk and then the canned supplement milk.
Eliza nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I don’t care if I don’t sleep or eat for ten years. I’ll do anything to keep her.”
“Now, legal documents—”
“Oh legality,” Eliza waved her hand with a tearful laugh. “I’ll take care of that mess. Besides, who in Denver, after I sign her birth certificate, is to know that she’s not mine? As far as I am concerned she is my daughter… a gift from God.”
Esther smiled, glancing at Michael whose eyes were growing heavy with sleep. “A gift from God,” she agreed.
/
Will was sent to inspect and search the south side of the valley with all the small ranches. He found no trace of Toby, and none of the ranch
ers had seen him. Joseph had inspected a good number of the farms, and Sheriff Ben had been up to the mining community, but they found nothing. Joseph decided to check west of town before checking in on Esther to see how things with Mary had gone, although Joseph doubted Toby would venture back for his wife. Will himself was about to check out a few more farms when uneasiness settled over him. Abby was probably fine; he told her to lock the doors and not answer to anyone. After all, why would Toby go by there?
Will froze, remembering suddenly Toby’s reaction to her. Abby had, in her beautiful descriptive manner, told him of Toby’s offer to her and his comments about her being alone. Toby would know she was alone. The man was a coward; he had used Mary as an alibi for his first murder—why not use another female as a way out, as a hostage. Fear seized Will as he kicked his horse in the flank and rode at a full gallop toward the schoolhouse.
/
Joseph’s mouth dropped when Esther opened the door. Her hair was completely undone, the left side of her face was swollen and beginning to turn purple, and her dress was smeared with blood. She smiled weakly, her eyes dark with sorrow. Behind her he could see Eliza cooing at a baby in her arms and another woman with her.
“What? Where is Mary?”
Esther took a step outside, shutting the door behind her. “Joseph, I was wondering if you could do me a favor. Eliza said Kyle Lampton was due to arrive this evening. Would you please ask him to come to my home? Melissa will need to be escorted home as well as Eliza who will be adopting Mary’s baby,” Esther said as calmly as if she’d been describing the weather.
Joseph held up his hands. “Wait, why is Eliza—”
“Mary left,” Esther said with a small catch in her voice. “She left to go find Toby. So Eliza is taking her baby.”
“Do you think she knows where Toby is?”
Esther shrugged. “It doesn’t matter—she is already dead at this point.”
/
Will stopped his horse in front of the teacher’s small home. A weak light shone through the curtains. He jumped off his horse, not bothering to tie it up, and pounded on the door. “Abby, its Will. You all right?” he shouted through the door.
No answer.
He pounded harder. “Abby! Can you hear me?”
Still silent.
“Abby, if you don’t answer, I am breaking down the door!” he shouted.
He heard a rustle.
“I’m—I’m fine, Will. I am just bathing so I can’t get the door,” she called haltingly.
Will felt his blood go cold. Abby would have laughed, teased him even, not spoken with a tremor in her voice. He pulled out his gun, cocking it gently so as not to make a noise.
“Abby, are you sure you’re fine?”
Silence and another rustle. Was it a whisper?
“Yes, Will,” she said without a tremor, but her voice was vacant of emotion. She said slowly and steadily. “I… am… perfectly… fine.”
Will stepped back. He would break down the door; one kick should do it. It was an older lock. “Okay Abby, I guess then I will see you tomorrow.”
One, two, three, and NOW.
Will kicked open the door, stepping through with his gun cocked and aimed at Toby who had his arm around Abby’s neck and a gun to her head.
“Drop the gun, Pastor,” Toby snarled.
Will glanced at Abby. Her hair was wet and it was obvious she wore nothing underneath her thin robe.
“Toby, release her or it won’t be my fist knocking you to the ground this time—it’ll be a bullet,” Will said more confidently then he felt. He could shoot Toby, but what if Toby moved? The bullet would hit Abby. Fear, anger, and a frantic prayer pounded through Will’s head. Abby could die. By Toby’s hand or his own unskilled marksmanship, she could die.
Will swallowed hard. The thought of losing her was unbearable.
Dear God, keep her safe.
“A pastor wouldn’t kill a man,” Toby laughed. “And, this pretty little teacher is gonna be my girl for a long while. If any one comes after me I’m gonna put a bullet through this lovely head of hers, and that would be an awful loss.”
“It is all right Abby,” Will told her calmly.
Abby’s face twisted. “How is it alright?”
Toby chuckled. “She’s got spirit. I am gonna have fun with her.”
Will took a step forward and Toby pressed the gun harder to her head.
“Don’t do anything stupid, Pastor.” He jerked his head toward Will’s gun. “Now drop your gun before you hurt someone.”
Will hesitated and Toby squeezed Abby’s neck tighter. She whimpered.
“All right!” Will shouted, slowly lowering his gun to the ground.
“Now, kick it over,” Toby snarled.
Will couldn’t look at Abby. How could he save her without putting her life in more danger? If he let her go, she would die. If he shot, she could die by his own hand.
Please, Father in heaven, send me a miracle. I beg thee, Will pleaded silently.
“Toby, take me as your hostage. I will cooperate if it means letting Abigail go.”
Toby snorted. “Why Pastor, I can’t do with you what I plan on doing with this filly. Now, kick over the gun or I shoot her and then you.”
Will looked down at his dropped gun. He could pick it up, shoot and pray that he hit his target, but aiming was not one of his best skills. Yet kicking the gun to Toby sealed Abby’s death—or worse.
“Pastor, you got three seconds. Three, two,”
The pop of a gun sent a bullet whizzing through the curtains and straight through Toby’s head. Abby cried out and flew out of the dead man’s falling arms. Will rushed forward, catching her and pulling her trembling body to his chest. Like an avenging angel, Joseph walked in, his face calm with the composure of a trained killer.
“I had a feeling I needed to stop by before going to town.” He walked past the embracing couple and checked Toby. “Dead.”
Abby pulled away from Will and threw her arms around her brother sobbing, “Oh Joseph, what would I do without you!”
Joseph put an arm around her and kissed her on the top of her head. Then his gaze found Will.
“Pastor,” he said sternly, “you were right to worry about my sister.”
Will smiled grimly. “I worried, but I was not the one to save her.”
At his words Joseph gently moved Abby aside and strode toward Will. In a movement that shocked Will so much he about choked, Joseph grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a strong hug.
“Will, I heard just about everything you said. Saw it, too, through the window. Had you fired, you would have hit Abby. You didn’t have a clean shot. I couldn’t have made that shot.” He gripped Will’s shoulders like a father lecturing a son. “You made the right call, and you gave me time to take aim. Abby owes you her life.” He looked back at his sister. “Abby, don’t let this one go,” he winked. “And get some clothes on.”
Abby’s body was shaking, but she mustered a weak laugh. “Always so sensitive.”
Joseph smiled and walked over to give her another kiss. “We Texans are tough. You prove that every day.” He ruffled her hair. “Now, if you excuse me, I got to go fetch a baker. Will, you can take care of this body?” Joseph asked casually.
Will arched an eyebrow, his own body was still shaking. It was obvious this was a scene Joseph was used to.
“Yeah, I got the body.”
Joseph gave him a smile and headed toward the door.
“Wait, Joseph,” Will called out.
Joseph turned looking at him inquiringly.
“Was—would you really have missed the shot if you’d been in my place?”
Joseph grinned. “Will, I can shoot a coin out of a flying crow’s mouth. Of course I could have made that shot, but you couldn’t have, and that is why I thank you.”
Will nodded, watching Joseph go before turning back to Abby. She hadn’t moved, but the fear was slowly fading from her silver eyes. Saying nothin
g, Will walked toward her and pulled her to him, pressing his lips to hers. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks and he did not bother to hold them back. He’d almost lost her.
“I love you, Abby. I love you so much,” he gently whispered into her hair.
She said nothing for a while, but Will did not care. He didn’t care if she ever said it. All that mattered was that she was alive.
Abby felt her body began to relax against Will’s fast heartbeat. His arms squeezed the breath from her, and she could smell the autumn air on his skin. Oh, she loved him. She had been afraid to say so, afraid to scare him away. What foolishness! Life was fragile, and death came unexpected. Who cared if she seemed desperate? She was desperate—desperate for his love, for his presence, for a life with him.
She pulled away from him just long enough to speak, “And I love you Will—with all my heart.”
No sooner had she said the words then Will took her by the arms and held her away, his eyes boring into hers. “What did you say?” he asked, breathless.
“I—I love you.”
“You mean it?” he asked incredulously.
“Of course, I mean it. How can you doubt it? I have loved you, I think, from the day I met you.”
Will laughed his face lighting up, “But when I declared myself to you at the Harvest Festival, you said nothing.”
Abby blushed. “I was afraid to scare you off. I didn’t want to pressure you or make you feel like I was trapping you into—”she shut her mouth, looking away.
“Trap me into what?” Will asked, a wickedly handsome grin creeping onto his lips.
“Nothing. I just did not want you to feel trapped. I mean, pressured.”
Will chuckled and took Abby’s hand to lead her outside. Then with a brave sigh he knelt down on one knee.
Abby’s mouth gaped.
“I had planned to do this in front of a waterfall or underneath a full moon and stars, but you never know what tomorrow will bring,“ he chuckled, kissing her hands gently. “Abigail Silver, would you do me the great honor of being my wife?”
Abigail wondered what power was keeping her feet from leaving the ground. Joy surged through her and into the tears that rolled down her cheeks.
“Yes!” she cried, falling to her knees and placing her head on top of their hands. “Again and again, yes,” she looked up at the face she loved so dearly. Will squeezed her hands and kissed them again.