by Jodi Thomas
Daniel watched as Karlee climbed down from the wagon and helped AmyAnn Blair. Wolf swung the twins to the ground and eased his Springfield from beneath the bench seat. The girls followed him like baby ducks as he wove toward Daniel and the open grave. They were too young to know of death and would only see the flowers and grass between the headstones.
When Wolf stood within a few feet of Daniel, he whispered, “Best get the burying over fast, Danny boy. I think the widow is already in labor.”
Daniel nodded. He knew why she had to be present. No one would believe they were burying Jesse Blair if his wife wasn't standing over the grave. He stared at Karlee as she helped the widow maneuver across the uneven ground. AmyAnn Blair reminded Daniel of his wife when she'd been pregnant. She'd probably been a tiny woman until pregnancy had rounded her into a ball.
Karlee glanced up and met his gaze. For a moment, he glared at her, fighting the urge to order her back to the wagon with the girls. She had no idea what she had just walked into. He had his hands full and now he added worrying about her.
“Why'd you bring her?” Daniel mumbled to Wolf without taking his attention from Karlee.
“When she saw the shape the widow was in, she insisted. There wasn't much I could do without telling her more than she needed to know.”
“Let's get started.” Daniel frowned and opened his Bible. The three gravediggers acting as pallbearers lined up with heads bowed. “Dearly beloved, we…”
The pounding of hooves echoed through the cemetery and Daniel raised his voice slightly. “… to bury a husband and a hero of the South.”
Federal troops, outfitted in new blue uniforms, raced down the dusty road to the church and galloped straight for the burial sight with total disregard for the graves they thundered across.
The widow began to cry in fear. Karlee placed her arm around the little woman, holding her upright. The twins ran to Karlee's skirt and wiggled into its folds.
“Hold up, Reverend!” a young lieutenant shouted. “We've got a few questions before you Rebs try to pull your Dixie wool over our eyes.”
Daniel slowly closed his Bible and drew himself to full military stance. All he had to do was speak to prove his side of the Mason-Dixon line, but Daniel let the officer have more rope. He'd heard about Lieutenant Logan for a month now. The man must have missed his ration of fighting during the war and was looking for it in Jefferson.
“Bunch of lying traitors, the lot of you,” the lieutenant mumbled. He dismounted without noticing he'd stepped on newly planted flowers. “You all should have had the sense to run to Mexico in sixty-five like your governor Murrah.”
Daniel waited. The widow's cries were more of pain than sorrow, but the Union officer didn't notice. Karlee pulled both girls against her sides and tried to move the widow backward.
Logan unfolded a paper from his pocket with great ceremony. “I've got orders to arrest Jesse Blair, and this fake funeral isn't going to stop me.” He signaled. His troops lifted their rifles. “No one will stop me. Jesse Blair is no hero but only a common criminal.”
Daniel stepped away from the open grave but didn't lower his gaze.
The lieutenant glared at him for a moment, resenting Daniel's lack of respect but unsure what to do about it. He motioned two of his men to pull up the coffin. “If this box is empty, as I suspect, I swear it will be full before sundown.”
AmyAnn Blair cried out in pain and gripped her middle, but the lieutenant paid no heed. As the coffin reached ground level, he raised his Colt and fired three shots through the center of the pine. “Just in case Blair's playing possum.” Logan laughed.
The officer looked disappointed when no one around the grave reacted except one of the twins, who started crying at the sudden sound.
Karlee lifted the girl to her hip and covered the child's ear with her hand.
Soldiers pried the case open and stepped back quickly, turning their faces away to gulp fresh air.
The Yankee officer moved to see inside the box. But as he leaned close, he gagged and turned away. The smell of death drifted across the morning air. With a handkerchief over his nose and mouth, he moved close again, examining the dead man inside.
“Is this man your husband, Madam?” Logan turned for the first time to the widow.
She cried softly and straightened slightly. “He was wearing that very uniform the last time I saw him.”
The lieutenant turned to Daniel. “Something is not right here. There's more that stinks than the corpse. Why wasn't he buried sooner?”
Wolf moved beside the preacher, his rifle riding unseen along the back of his leg. “We decided to wait as long as we could in case you boys wanted to see the body. Figured you'd never believe Jesse was dead unless you seen it with your own eyes.”
“He's dead. With that smell he could be nothing else. But something's not right here. I can feel it.” The officer stared at Daniel. “I'll be watching you.”
Daniel raised his chin slightly but didn't say a word. If the man were corrupt, Daniel would learn the truth faster by letting him believe there were only Southerners present.
“Fall out!” the Yankee yelled as he climbed on his horse. “There's nothing here. Jesse Blair is nothing but worm meat now.”
No one moved as the troops rode from sight. Daniel knew what he'd just done would amount to treason if he were caught. When he'd first landed in Jefferson, he went to what the Union Army called the stockade. The locals called it Sandtown. Week after week, he watched innocent men die of fever and exposure. Men who served their state well in the Confederacy. Men who fought beside their neighbors and family, not for slavery, but for the right of free choice as they saw it.
Texas entered the Union as an independent country. Texans figured they had the right to leave. Daniel's greatest revelation had been to learn that the war he and his brothers fought over slavery wasn't about that at all, to the Southerners' way of thinking.
Jesse Blair was just into his twenties and far too poor to have owned a slave. He'd turned from a boy to a man in the middle of battle. He came home wanting to forget the war and start a family. But pride in a dead cause branded him as a troublemaker. Wolf told Daniel most of the things that got blamed on Jesse couldn't have been done by the kid and were probably done by an outlaw named Cullen Baker.
The way Wolf figured it, the only crime Jesse committed was refusing to stop wearing a uniform he'd been told to wear with honor.
Daniel glanced at the grave. The uniform would be buried today and, maybe, so would the problem.
“Danny!” Wolf broke into his thoughts. “We got trouble.”
For a moment Daniel glanced back to the road, expecting to see the lieutenant ordering a full charge across the graveyard. But he saw nothing and only heard the clenched whisper of a cry of pain.
Karlee tried desperately to hold up the widow as Daniel-ran toward them.
“The baby's coming,” Karlee called as she lowered AmyAnn Blair to the ground.
Wolf took two steps toward the women, then two steps back. “What'll we do?” he asked Daniel.
The woman's sudden scream of pain clawed across Daniel's mind. How many hours had he listened to his wife scream with labor? How many times had he wished it had been him who died and not her?
“We got to do something.” Wolf paced. “Water! Where'll I find water? I know there has to be water at a birthing.”
Daniel didn't move. He couldn't. Her agony held him like granite inside the hell of his memory.
“We have to get her to the doctor,” Wolf finally decided. “That's it. There's bound to be a doctor a few streets over on Main.”
“No!” AmyAnn begged. “Don't move me. Please. I can't move.”
“It's too late to take her anywhere,” Karlee mumbled holding her breath with each contraction while encouraging the woman to breathe. She pointed at the three gravediggers who'd been quietly watching. “One of you run for the doctor and tell him to hurry. And you…” She raised her head toward the
second man. “Go inside the church and bring me any clean rags or cloth you can find.” To the third undertaker she shouted. “Get that man buried!”
Her sharp tone brought order to the men. Daniel looked at her, really seeing her for the first time. “Can you handle this?” he asked in a voice that hid his own fear.
“I haven't got much choice.” She loosened the woman's jacket. “I've been doing what I had to all my life.”
“How can I help?” Daniel asked, marveling at this woman who couldn't make a pancake but thought she could deliver a baby.
“Take care of the twins.”
Daniel nodded. She'd given him something he could do.
“What about me?” Wolf roared. The hairy giant looked like he'd gladly be sent on a mission to kill a dozen men rather than have to stand around waiting for the next contraction.
“Get the blankets from the wagon and see if you can wall us in. We don't need a shelter, only a little privacy. And clean that knife sticking out of your boot as best you can. If the doctor doesn't make it fast, I'll be needing something to cut the cord with.”
The widow gripped Karlee's arm with bruising force. “It's coming. It's coming. Dear God, I'm so afraid. Jesse! Where's Jesse?”
Karlee worked faster, removing the woman's undergarments, keeping the outer skirt covering her like a blanket. “Now don't you worry, Ma'am. I've helped with many a baby coming into this world,” she lied. “This one's just in a hurry.”
As Wolf stabbed two shovels into the ground and raised the first wall, the woman's screams shattered the peaceful morning. Karlee noticed birds flutter and fly from the line of trees and thought she saw the flash of sparkle off of metal. If someone was hidden in the trees he would have a front row seat to the birthing.
Karlee stroked the woman's damp hair as she rode the contraction down. “With the next pain, you got to push if you feel the need. This little fellow's knocking at the door, and we have to let him come on out.”
The widow nodded in understanding, but her eyes were wild with fear.
“Grip the earth,” Karlee ordered near her ear. “The next time you feel the pain take a big handful of Mother Earth and hold on.”
AmyAnn's nails dug into the grassy ground.
Karlee accepted a handful of clean clothes from a man already running backward as she reached out. She was vaguely aware of another side of their shelter going up. Now the women were hidden from all but the distant trees bordering the cemetery.
Karlee raised AmyAnn's hem and watched in wonder. The baby's head slowly appeared. Within what seemed seconds, a tiny body lay in her hands. He was wet and blue and so slippery she could hardly cradle him. She tried several ways to hold him, then decided on lifting him by the feet out of all the blood and water.
The widow relaxed back into the grass. “Is he breathing?” she whispered.
Karlee stared at the liquid dripping from the baby's mouth and nose. “No,” she answered. Sorrow choked her own breathing.
She held him in one hand and patted his back, trying to force the fluid from him. “Breathe!” she demanded. “Breathe!” The pace became harder. There was nothing else to do.
After only a few more pats, the baby jerked and breathed, then let out a cry. His jelly-like body took shape as air filled his lungs.
“Yes!” Karlee shouted. “Yes, he's breathing.”
She looked up smiling and saw the woman's body contract once more. Warm, sticky liquid and blood seemed everywhere. About three feet above the woman's head a hand poked through the blankets. Nervous fingers held a long Bowie knife.
Karlee giggled. She didn't have to ask who was on the other side of the wool wall. “Thank you, Wolf.”
She took the knife and cut the cord binding baby and mother, then tied each end as the baby wiggled atop the pile of rags.
“Where's the woman in labor?” a voice shouted from near the church. “I'm the doctor.”
“Over here!” Wolf's gruff holler answered. “Only she ain't a woman in labor no more. She's a mother!”
The doctor stepped between the blankets, glancing first at the baby then the mother. “Take care of the babe, Nurse,” he ordered. “I'll make sure the mother isn't hemorrhaging.”
Karlee wanted to scream that she didn't know what to do, but then she smiled, realizing she must have done it right if he thought she was a nurse.
She wiped the baby off and wrapped it in a square of cotton that looked very much like the covering for the church altar. The infant was wiggling and making all kinds of noises with his mouth wide open, just like a newborn bird's.
She crawled up to the new mother and lay the infant at her side. “He's beautiful,” Karlee explained. “Prettiest baby I've ever seen.”
“Thank you.”
Karlee shrugged. “I didn't do anything. You did all the work. I just watched the miracle.”
“You're an angel God sent in my darkest hour,” the widow announced. “I will be forever in your debt.”
AmyAnn's pale hand covered Karlee's bloody one. “Forever your friend,” she whispered and closed her eyes. “Forever.”
“Doctor?” Karlee fought panic.
“She's fine,” he answered quickly, understanding Karlee's fear. “Lost a lot of blood, she has. Best to let her rest for a spell, then we'll see about getting her home and putting her in a proper bed.” He lifted the baby. “And this little fellow is grand, just grand. I think I'll nickname him Rip.”
“Rip?” Karlee questioned.
“Yeah, Rest In Peace like the headstone here says. He'll be one brave man, I figure. For anyone born in a cemetery ought to have no fear of dying.”
He slowly stood, building his height one joint at a time. “Stay with her and little Rip for a while.” Without a word, he slipped a small derringer beneath the stack of clothes. “This won't hit nothing more then three feet away, but it should make enough noise to attract attention. I'll tell the men you'll fire if you need help.”
Karlee started to shake her head and tell the doctor how much she hated firearms, but then she remembered the Union officer. She didn't want him to return and find her and AmyAnn alone. She could fire a round to call for help.
The doctor looked at her and smiled. “You did a fine job today, but stay alert. The trouble may not be over. I'll be back soon.”
EIGHT
KARLEE STAYED WITH AMYANN UNTIL HER NEIGHBORS came to take the new mother home. The women might have been afraid to come to the cemetery during the funeral, but they promised to stay with AmyAnn and the baby until she was able to get around by herself.
To Karlee's surprise they all took turns hugging her as if she were a long time member of their circle. Several promised to come by and visit. She'd never felt so welcomed in her life.
Karlee hugged the new mother and kissed the baby, then walked home alone in the late afternoon sun. She'd stuffed the derringer in the pocket of her skirt. “Forget about it,” she told herself, but the thumping of metal against her leg kept reminding her that she carried a weapon.
All the day's stress pressed over her body, tiring muscles and making her step heavy. Blood and dirt splattered the front of her dress. Her hair ribbon had disappeared. She knew she looked a fright, but she'd never felt so satisfied.
She'd done something right! All day, as AmyAnn slept in the grass and Karlee cradled the baby, she'd felt a pride in herself unlike she'd ever known. The doctor left them in her care, trusting her to do what was right. He'd ordered Karlee not to move the little widow until he finished his rounds and came back to make sure she was strong enough to travel.
When he returned, he told Karlee that if she ever needed a position as a nurse, she had one with him.
Karlee opened the kitchen door, thinking how odd life was. A week ago she had no way of supporting herself, and today she'd been offered her second job. Maybe when Daniel didn't need her to watch the twins any longer, she could visit with the doctor. She was sure nurses didn't make much, but she didn't need much. She
could rent a room and live alone.
“About time you got home, Cousin,” Wolf boomed in welcome. “I'm worn out playing with these two. Danny left an hour ago, saying he'd be back before dark. I don't think I'll stay alive if I don't get some relief.”
Karlee looked past Wolf to the kitchen. Forty field hands could have done no more damage. Pots and pans were everywhere on the floor. Dirty dishes filled the sink.
“Wish I could stay and help you clean up.” Wolf stood slowly and moved toward the door as she walked around the room. “But I got to go. A bar fight looks down right restful at this point.”
He broke into a run as if he feared she might catch him and make him help. Karlee laughed at the sight of such a cowardly uncle. The twins joined her by dancing around and giggling.
“What have you two and Uncle Wolf been doing?” Karlee brushed their hair with her hand.
One of the girls proudly showed off a paper chain necklace. “We made paper chains. Uncle Wolf didn't know how to make the paste, so he tried lots of ways.”
“And he made us jelly sandwiches with eggs inside,” the other twin added. “And we drank coffee with cream from the tea cups. And he said we didn't have to take a nap, just because.”
The first twin nodded.
They didn't need to list their activities for the day, Karlee could read it on their clothes. Jelly, flour, dried paste, coffee stains.
“Well, I've got one last treat for you.” Karlee reached for the tub leaning in the corner.
Ten minutes later, she had both twins playing in a bath of warm water while she washed the dishes a few feet away at the sink.
By the time she toweled them off, their skin was all wrinkly, and they were too sleepy to dress themselves. She gave each a cup of buttermilk with cornbread pieces crumbled up in it.
They ate their supper, then didn't complain as she carried them up to bed. Karlee was a little surprised when both hugged and kissed her cheek goodnight. Somehow the sleepy little hugs and the buttermilk kisses made it all worthwhile.