The Midwife's Legacy (Romancing America)

by Jane Kirkpatrick

Gordon sighed. He hadn’t realized how hard it would be to leave the fort. His gaze moved to the hospital and Sutler’s store. They were wooden buildings, not very pretty on the outside but much nicer on the inside than the mud buildings that housed the soldiers.

  As he entered the hospital, he heard a lowered female voice. “So as long as things go right, it will be like a normal birth?” Her voice sounded familiar.

  Gordon stopped just outside the doorway and waited. He didn’t want to interrupt the doctor and his patient. For a brief moment, he considered leaving the hospital and waiting outside, but then the doctor spoke again, catching and holding his attention.

  “Much the same. The second baby will come shortly after the first. Do you have someone you can pass the first baby off to?”

  Her voice sounded uncertain. “I’ll see if one of the other women can be present. Of course, I have no idea what the conditions will be on the trail when the babies come.”

  Was that the voice of the woman he’d spoken to earlier? The one with the chubby little boy? From the sound of things she was expecting twins. No wonder she’d been cross.

  The doctor’s voice grew louder, as if the two were walking toward him. “I’m sure you will do fine, Miss Schultz.”

  Miss Schultz? Was she an unwed mother? Surely the doctor had said Mrs. Schultz?

  Polly rounded the corner and found herself stopping abruptly as she came face-to-face with the stranger who had offered her assistance earlier. What was he doing here?

  “I’ll be right with you, Reverend.” The doctor placed his hand in the small of her back and said, “If you think of any more questions, feel free to stop by again before you leave.”

  Reverend? Reverend? The word screeched through her mind with the sound of a squeaky wheel.

  Polly nodded, never taking her eyes off the cowboy who had moved aside to let her pass. What reverend wore a Stetson hat, had eyes the color of sapphires and a firm jaw with short whiskers that gave him a hardened criminal look?

  Just before stepping through the door, Polly remembered her manners. “Thank you, Doctor, for your advice.” She turned and her gaze connected with the reverend’s over the doctor’s shoulder.

  “You are most welcome, Miss Schultz.” The doctor smiled at her and nodded before closing the door.

  She’d thought the reverend was a scoundrel when he’d offered help earlier. The man had been riding a mule and had been covered in trail dust. What must he think of her? She’d been rude. Polly shook her head. It didn’t matter what he thought. They’d be leaving in the morning, and she’d never see the man again.

  Chapter 3

  Polly set her sketch paper on the blanket beside her. She ignored the face that looked up at her from the paper. To keep her mind off him, she focused on the fort that bustled with activity. Men, women, children, Indians, and soldiers entered and exited the stronghold. What was it about the reverend that had her sketching his face and looking for him in the hustle and bustle of the fort?

  She shoved the paper into the tent and then stood to go check on Beulah. The Bentzes had gone to the store, leaving Polly to sketch to her heart’s content. She’d already written in the journal about the fort and had even sketched it.

  Polly’s heart ached with longing for Mamadele. Reading the journal today didn’t ease the loss of the only mother she’d ever known. She smiled at the young man keeping watch over the horses and mules. Beulah came running to her.

  “Are you going to take her for a ride, Miss Polly?” He brushed dark-brown hair off his brow; then his gaze darted to the ground.

  Mark Calhoun was nice enough, but Polly couldn’t see herself with the shy young man. He reminded her of Sam, the boy back home who had been her friend. “No, but I will take her for a stroll, if that’s all right.”

  “I’m sure it is, as long as you stay close to camp.” At her nod he continued, “It still amazes me that that mule will follow you around like a dog.” He offered Polly the rope that he’d slipped over Beulah’s neck.

  The rope wasn’t needed, but Polly understood the young man’s use of it. Most mules were cantankerous, but not Beulah. Polly smiled at him. “Thank you.” She scratched Beulah’s ears and patted her neck.

  As she walked away, Mark called, “See you.”

  Polly waved at him and continued walking. A path led to the river, and she followed it. She could still see the fort, so she felt safe in leaving the camp behind. The sound of water running greeted her as she drew closer to the river.

  The little mule gave her a nudge in the back. “I hear it, too.” Beulah gave her another push. “Stop shoving—I’m going.” She smiled over her shoulder at her companion, the only breathing connection she had to home and Mamadele. Lord, please keep Beulah safe as we journey to Oregon. I need her.

  Beulah drank deeply from the river. Polly sat down, pulled her knees up, and sighed. After several long moments of listening to the water run over the rocks, she laid her head on her knees. What had the reverend been doing at the doctor’s? Was he sick? Did he know and care about someone who was sick?

  “Do you mind if I throw rocks into the water?”

  She looked up to find a young boy with blue eyes, crooked teeth, and wheat-colored hair looking down on her. “No, go ahead.”

  “I’m Daniel Carter.” He tossed a stone into the water.

  “Is that the best you can do, Daniel Carter?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Polly stood, picked up a smooth stone, and weighed it in her hand. “I mean, is that your best attempt at skipping a stone across the water?” She walked to the river’s edge, and with a sidearm toss and a flick of her wrist, she sent the rock skipping across the water.

  Daniel gasped. “That’s amazing.”

  “Haven’t you ever skipped stones before?” Polly picked up another stone.

  “Sure. But mine never go that far.” He stared at her as if she were a three-eyed frog.

  Polly couldn’t help giggling at his awestruck face. “Want me to teach you the trick?” she asked, once she’d stopped laughing.

  “Oh yes.” He scooped up more rocks and came to stand beside her.

  She showed him how to stand, pull his arm back at a twenty-degree angle, flick his wrist, and release the stone. Soon Daniel was skipping stones almost as well as she could.

  “You’re with the new wagon train, huh?”

  Polly smiled as she rubbed Beulah’s shoulders and back. She heard the sadness in his voice and turned to face him, but he was looking out over the water. “Yes, I am.”

  “I wish I could go with you.”

  Polly walked over to him and dropped her arm around his shoulder. “I wish you could, too, but I’m traveling with the Bentz family, and we don’t have the extra room.”

  Daniel looked up at her with soulful eyes. “I don’t take up much room.”

  “You would miss your family.”

  He shook his head. “Ma and Pa are in heaven.”

  Her heart twisted. “I see.”

  Daniel pulled away from her. “No, you don’t. I’ve been cast aside like a dirty rag. No one wants me.”

  Didn’t she feel the same way? Hadn’t her father abandoned her, and hadn’t Mamadele chosen to go on with her new life with her new husband? Sending Polly to travel to Oregon alone?

  She touched his arm. “You would be surprised how much I understand.”

  Gordon searched everywhere for Daniel. He’d finished his business with the wagon master and wanted to tell the boy he’d be leaving first thing in the morning. When he couldn’t find him within the fort, he decided to go down to the riverbank. Daniel often went there to think and play.

  He spotted Daniel and the Schultz woman coming back from the river. The little mule followed them. The boy smiled at something she said, and his grin grew when he saw Gordon.

  Daniel ran to meet him. “Reverend! Miss Polly said she might be able to get me on the wagon train with you all.”

  “She did?” Why had sh
e told Daniel such a thing? Why would she build his hopes and then have them dashed on the morrow?

  “Yep, but I’ll have to work hard because the family she has in mind needs help taking care of their team and the other stock they have with them. Isn’t that right, Miss Polly?” Daniel turned toward Miss Schultz.

  “That’s right, Daniel, but I can’t promise you that the Smiths will let you come. I’ll have to ask them.” She came to stand beside them. Her hazel eyes looked into Gordon’s, and a light pink filled her cheeks.

  “Isn’t that great, Reverend?” Daniel beamed up at him.

  “It is, son. Why don’t you run on ahead? I’d like to talk to Miss Polly in private.” He placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder and silently prayed he would not be too bitterly disappointed.

  “All right. I’ll go pack. The Smiths might want me to come to the wagon tonight, and I want to be ready.”

  Before Gordon could answer, Daniel ran toward the fort.

  Fury built in Gordon’s chest at the woman. Didn’t she realize how crushed the boy would be if this Smith family turned him down? Words forced their way between his clenched teeth. “Woman! Have you lost your mind?”

  “No, I believe it is still here.” She raised her head and continued walking.

  “How could you make such a promise to that boy? He has been through so much already, and for you to build his hopes up, without knowing what the Smiths will say, is just cruel.” Gordon felt the rise of heat in his face and clenched his teeth to stop the anger that would soon spew all over the inconsiderate woman if he didn’t get control of himself.

  She spun on her heels and punched a finger into his chest. “Now you see here, Reverend. I did not build up the boy’s hopes. We talked at length about this, and I can assure you, I did not make any promises.” She poked him again before pressing on. “But, for good measure, I know for a fact that Daniel will be welcome in the Smiths’ wagon. I just need to talk to the family and tell them his story.” She stepped back and placed her hands on her hips. The color in her cheeks flamed. Dark-brown hair with auburn highlights escaped the confines of her bonnet. “And furthermore, that little boy loves you, and his only desire is to go with you to Oregon. So don’t judge me. You are the one who is going to leave him behind like an overused shoe.” With that, Polly Schultz turned around and stomped off to the wagon train. Her little mule hurried after her.

  Gordon stood perfectly still. Her finger had branded his chest when she’d touched him. Her forthrightness had prevented him from any speech, and her anger could burn a hole through the toughest metal. That was one irate woman. He hated to admit to himself that she was right. He’d have to apologize to her.

  He exhaled and followed Daniel into the fort. How would he take care of Daniel once they’d made it to Oregon? He figured he’d have to cross that mountain when he came to it. Gordon found the wagon master and let him know that Daniel would be traveling with him. He then went to the store to purchase more food supplies.

  An hour later, Gordon found Daniel sitting on his small cot sorting through his few belongings. The boy smiled when he saw Gordon standing in the doorway. “I was just trying to decide if I’ll have room for my slingshot in the Smiths’ wagon.”

  “I don’t think so, son.” Gordon sat down beside him. “But there is plenty of room in mine, if you’d still be interested in riding with me.”

  Gordon felt a tug at his heart as the boy turned hopeful eyes on him.

  His voice quivered. “Ya mean it?”

  Gordon stood. “I do.”

  Daniel jumped up and hugged him tight around the waist. Sobs shook his young shoulders.

  Until that moment, Gordon hadn’t realized how much this trip meant to the boy. He gently pulled him away and knelt down in front of him. He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped Daniel’s face. “Here, blow.” When Daniel did as he was told, Gordon continued, “I’m not your father, and I would never pretend I am, but on this trip you have to listen to what I say and do as I ask. Can you do that?”

  Daniel nodded. “Yes sir.”

  “And that’s another thing. I’ll no longer have you calling me Reverend; that’s too formal.” Gordon rubbed his chin. Would it be all right for the boy to simply call him Gordon?

  Daniel mimicked his actions. “Miss Polly told me her mama died and now she has a Mamadele. Maybe I could call you Papa Gordon?”

  Gordon pretended to be in deep thought. He stroked his chin and looked heavenward. “Hmm, Papa Gordon.” He lowered his head and looked the boy straight in the eyes. “Kind of has a nice ring to it, at that. Are you sure that’s what you want to call me?”

  Daniel nodded and said, “Papa Gordon sounds right to me.”

  “Then Papa Gordon it is.” Gordon stood and dusted off the knees of his pants. “Come along, Daniel. You can help me finish loading the wagon.”

  As Daniel gathered up his pillow, blanket, bag of clothes, and slingshot, Gordon’s thoughts turned to Miss Polly. What was she going to say when she learned that he was now a papa?

  Chapter 4

  Polly stomped back to the wagon train. What was it about that man that set her on edge and caused her to lose her temper like that? His tone, and the way he acted all high and mighty. She shoved her bonnet back on and tied the stings as she walked.

  Would he do as she suggested and take the boy on? Or should she approach Mrs. Smith about Daniel riding with them?

  “Did you have a nice walk, Miss Schultz?”

  She’d forgotten all about Mark and Beulah. She was thankful the little mule trailed along behind her. “Yes, I did. Thank you.”

  He picked up the rope that hung limply around Beulah’s neck and took it off before turning her into the corral. “Miss Schultz, may I ask you a question?”

  Polly dreaded to hear his next words. She nodded and tried to think of a way to nicely let him down.

  “As you know, there isn’t a doctor on the wagon train, and my sister is with child.” He took a deep breath and continued, “We were wondering, would you be a midwife to her?” Again he paused. “Like you are to Mrs. Bentz.”

  Polly swallowed hard. So he wasn’t interested in her as a woman but as a midwife. Hadn’t Mamadele always said that being a midwife came before everything else? She looked down at her shoes to hide her disappointment. Not that she would have allowed him to court her, but it would have been nice if he’d at least been interested.

  He cleared his throat.

  When she looked up, Polly saw that his neck and cheeks were red. “I’d have to talk to your sister about it, Mr. Calhoun. If she wants to talk to me, I’ll be in my tent.”

  “Thank you, Miss Schultz. I’ll tell her.”

  Polly nodded and then turned to go. She looked toward the fort and sighed. Did she want to take on another mother? She wasn’t sure she could do the right thing by Mrs. Bentz if she took on another mother. Lord, please give me wisdom as I decide what to do.

  She made her way to the Smiths’ wagon. Mr. and Mrs. Smith were sitting beside their campfire. “May I join you?” She stopped on the edge of their camp.

  Mrs. Smith waved for her to join them. “Please, do come on over. I just put a fresh pot of coffee on.”

  Sadness from the loss of her son still lingered in the woman’s eyes. Polly wondered if asking them to take Daniel would be too hard on her. But then again, maybe the boy was just what the couple needed. She prayed silently as she sat down.

  “What brings you our way?” Mr. Smith asked. He picked up his pocketknife and began whittling on a small piece of wood.

  Mrs. Smith handed a tin cup to Polly, and she took a sip before answering. “A ten-year-old named Daniel.”

  Mr. Smith grunted. “What about him?”

  “Mr. Smith, don’t be rude,” Mrs. Smith reprimanded softly. She turned an interested gaze on Polly. “Please go on, Miss Schultz.”

  “Daniel would like to go to Oregon with the wagon train. He’s waiting for the reverend to decide if h
e will bring him along with him, but if the reverend decides he can’t, I was wondering if he might travel with you?” Polly felt as if she were out of air, she’d talked so fast.

  The couple exchanged looks. Mrs. Smith’s eyes held hope. Mr. Smith’s were filled with sorrow.

  He lowered his knife. “Now, Harriet, you know we can’t take on the lad.”

  “Why not? He could help you with the team and the cows.” She poured fresh coffee into his mug.

  Polly took another sip of her coffee. She prayed that they’d take the boy. It hadn’t occurred to her that Mr. Smith would refuse.

  He shook his head. “That’s true, but he’ll never replace our boy.”

  Mrs. Smith’s eyes filled with tears. “No, but we have both been so lonesome. Wouldn’t it be nice to have the lad around during the day?”

  Mr. Smith turned to face Polly. “Where’s he gonna sleep?”

  She sat up straighter. “I had thought he could stay with you, in your wagon.” Polly knew Daniel could sleep under the wagon, but she hated the thought of him sleeping there alone at night. Even though he was ten years old, Daniel seemed small for his age.

  Mr. Smith spit on the ground to show his disapproval. “I’ll not have a half-grown boy sleeping in our wagon with us.”

  “If I can find him another place to sleep, would you be willing to keep an eye on him during the day?” Polly asked.

  He nodded. “We’ll feed him breakfast and lunch, but someone else will need to feed him supper.” He sliced off another piece of wood with the knife.

  Polly stood. What had she done? Polly had been sure Mr. Smith would be happy, even grateful for Daniel’s help. Had the reverend been correct in his scolding? Who would take on feeding the little boy in the evenings and give him a place to sleep? Since she was traveling with the Bentzes, Polly couldn’t very well offer to feed the boy. And, as Mr. Smith said, he was half grown. Would people talk if she allowed him to stay with her? Surely not. After all, he was only a child. She stepped out of the circle of light and started to walk toward her tent.

  “You seem deep in thought.”