“Have you decided on a name?” Christiana prodded in a soothing tone.
Her heartbeat skipped to realize Lanie was closer to delivery than she’d thought. She hoped her mother would see the note she had left and arrive soon, but she doubted it. Papa would insist he return with Mother, not wanting her traveling alone at night, and he likely wouldn’t be happy that she had taken it on herself to bring him his forgotten briefcase. Nor would he wish to leave the impending exhibit until all was in order. With his meticulous ways, that could take hours. She forced a trouble-free smile, grateful to see Lanie’s brow also smooth.
“Clarence and I spoke of it this week. Roderick, if it’s a boy. Juliet, if it’s a girl.”
“Those are lovely names.”
Sorrow filled Lanie’s eyes. “We had a row. That’s why he’s not here.”
Wishing to keep Lanie as serene as possible, Christiana doubted the wisdom of speaking of their altercation but needed to know. “Have you any idea where your husband went?”
“Likely the gentlemen’s club, playing cards or talking politics. He goes there when he’s upset.”
The loud clatter of banging pots came to them from downstairs.
Christiana rose from the bed. Row or no row, the father should be told his child was entering the world. “I’ll just see if your stepson needs help.” She squeezed Lanie’s hand before going. “Would you like something for your thirst?”
Lanie nodded against the pillow. “Please. I’m so grateful you’re here, Christiana.”
She smiled. “Where else would I be? I’m here as long as you need me. Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”
Another contraction hit, and Lanie tightened her hold painfully around Christiana’s hand. Christiana again sank to the bed, gently reassuring, as Lanie’s face turned as red as a tomato and she squeezed her eyes shut, desperately clutching the mound of her stomach.
“Breathe, Lanie. No—don’t hold your breath!”
“I’m going to die, aren’t I?”
“No, you’re not.”
Stark terror filled her friend’s eyes. She had to calm her quickly. The idea that came was foolish, counting off seconds, but it was all she could think of.
“Say it with me, Lanie: one Exposition, two Exposition, come now. Three Exposition, four Exposition …”
Lanie looked at her oddly but obeyed. Somehow they slowly made it to “twenty Exposition” before Lanie again rested and Christiana retrieved her reddened, nail-marked hand from Lanie’s relaxed hold. That pain had come longer and stronger. Christiana feared they didn’t have much time before the final moments of labor, which could take minutes or hours. She wiped the damp hair from Lanie’s forehead.
“You did well. If another pain comes, do what we just did and remember to breathe. I won’t be long.”
She hurried downstairs and found Noah standing amid pots and pans of all sizes, the cupboard doors and pantry flung wide open. He turned to look at her, his eyes frantic. “Would you believe there isn’t one kettle in this entire blasted kitchen?”
At her home, the pots hung from hooks in the ceiling. Here, they were stowed away on hidden shelves. If he couldn’t find a kettle, she doubted she would have better success. Christiana grabbed the largest pot. “This will do. You’ll have to make twice this amount and put all of it in a washbasin. Where is the linen closet? We’ll need plenty of clean towels.”
“I wish the doctor was here.”
“If you feel it necessary, then you must call him. I’m not stopping you.”
“I tried—but would you believe he’s out on a call!”
His words reminded her of Lanie’s husband. To send Noah out on a short errand, especially when he was at his wits’ end, would be good for all of them. “Do you know the location of your father’s club? He should be told.”
Noah nodded brusquely. “Yes, yes, I thought of that earlier. The operator of the exchange couldn’t connect me, so I went there myself—before coming to you—but Father wasn’t there.”
Calm. Calm. She must remain calm; she appeared the only one able to do so.
Christiana drew upon every nugget of training she’d received from her mother and the wisdom from her ancestors’ journal.
Dear God, help me in my hour of need, to fight my own pharaoh of feer.
“All right. Let’s just take this one step at a time. I’ll start water to boil. And I’ll need you to chip off some ice from the block in the icebox, small enough for Lanie to suck on.” The ice would help cool her and worked better than drinking water while she was in labor. She grabbed the pot and put it under the pump as she instructed him, propelling the handle until water gushed out. Quickly she set the filled pot on the stove he’d lit and watched as he chiseled pieces of ice into a bowl. With the cupboards wide open and the glasses in plain sight, she grabbed one. “Watch the water while I take the ice to Lanie.” She dropped chunks into a glass, hesitated, then said what must be addressed. There was no time for dillydallying. “If Mother doesn’t get here in time, I’ll need your assistance when the baby comes.”
He stared at her as if she’d just told him to strike a match and set himself on fire.
“If you don’t think you can do it, tell me now.” She had always assisted her mother. She could not imagine accomplishing the task alone, though if she must, she would do her best.
He went a shade paler but nodded. “I’ll do whatever needs to be done.”
Chapter 3
Three hours later, Noah remembered his brave words, gravely telling himself, as he’d been doing all night, that he would not pass out. And to think, women had been doing this for centuries! After hearing Lanie’s screams and witnessing her travail, he didn’t see how.
No one had come, not his father, not Christiana’s mother. Now Noah stood a discreet distance from Lanie, giving her what privacy he could offer while assisting Christiana by handing her whatever she asked for or giving Lanie yet more ice or his hand to squeeze to a pulp. Lanie had shown some expected awkwardness to have him there at first, but now she seemed oblivious to his presence in the room as she leaned forward, fisting her hand to the mattress, a determined look on her face as she struggled to bring her child into the world.
“Push, Lanie, push hard!” Christiana urged from beneath the tented sheet of Lanie’s bent knees. “Once more should do it. I can see the head!”
The news had Noah grabbing the bed frame for support, feeling dizzy, even as Lanie let out a determined, triumphant wail and seemed to crunch the bones of his other hand.
Minutes seemed like hours before Christiana gave a happy little giggle and delivered the news they had waited hours to receive.
“She’s here, Lanie. You have a baby girl.”
“A girl?” Lanie breathed softly, all smiles, no trace of pain remaining on her face. “Can I see her? Let me hold her.”
“Yes, of course; just a minute while I take care of things.”
“What things?”
“Normal things,” the young Miss Leonard calmly assured. “Nothing to worry about. Just relax.”
Within a short time she brought Lanie a writhing bundle swaddled in soft toweling.
“She’s quiet,” Lanie said, sitting up urgently. “Why’s she so quiet?”
“It’s all right,” Christiana soothed. “She’s fine. See?”
She bent to lay the bundle in Lanie’s arms. Noah’s heart seized with worry as he saw the dark-blue eyes of his new half sister stare wide and unblinking from a wrinkled red face that looked up at Lanie. Apparently the baby’s appearance gave neither woman alarm, though the head was misshaped. Lanie cooed to her newborn, and Christiana straightened to stand upright. Her body swayed.
“Easy.” Noah rested his hands at her waist to steady her. “Are you all right?” he whispered so only she could hear, though Lanie appeared so caught up in her baby he doubted she would notice a tidal wave break outside her window at the moment.
The young midwife nodded, but he felt her trembl
e.
“You should sit down.”
“There are things I must attend to first.” She glanced at him. “I won’t be needing your help any longer if you’d like to wait downstairs.”
Noah just prevented himself from running for the door. He was no coward but still felt ill at ease to be thrust in the middle of such a womanly situation, one entirely out of his element. “I’ll make coffee.”
“That sounds splendid. I’ll be down straightaway.”
He held eye contact with her. Their interaction felt oddly intimate, as if they’d known each other years instead of hours, and he nodded in affirmation at her easy smile.
In his exhaustion, he almost forgot his salutations before making his quick exit. “Lanie, congratulations. I’m happy for you and Father both.”
“Thank you, Noah. For everything.”
He nodded and glanced at Christiana once more before heading downstairs.
With everything accomplished, Christiana cleaned up while Lanie cuddled her baby. Twenty minutes had passed by the time she went downstairs to join Noah. On the landing she stopped, feeling a bit woozy. He appeared suddenly, coming from the parlor. She grabbed the banister, and he moved to her side, putting a hand to her waist to steady her.
“You all right?”
She offered a brief nod. “Yes, Mr. Cafferty, thank you. I only came down the stairs too fast.”
“After all you’ve done, it’s no small wonder that you’re exhausted. And please, call me Noah. May I call you Christiana? Somehow, after tonight, formalities seem bizarre.”
She felt the same way, as if she’d known this man much longer than one evening. With his hand supporting her waist, his words seemed more familiar than they actually were, but she nodded her consent.
“You should sit. I’ll check to see if the coffee’s ready.” He steered her toward the parlor sofa, and obediently she sank to the cushion. She found it amusing that for the past few hours she had told him what to do, and now he was taking charge. She rather liked the difference.
He looked at her in concern as if she were the one who’d just given birth. “Sure you’re okay?”
She wondered what her appearance must be for him to ask twice but again assured him she was fine.
Once he left for the kitchen, she sank her head back against the cushion. Her neck and shoulders ached from being held in one position too long. She felt she’d been awake for days instead of just one of them….
The next thing she knew, a hand on her shoulder shook her gently awake.
“Christiana …”
The low, masculine voice was unfamiliar, but the soft way he spoke her name caused warm contentment to spread from the center of Christiana’s being. Wearily, she opened her eyes. At the sight of Noah looking down at her with kindness, she came instantly awake and sat up.
“How long have I been asleep?” She patted her fingers at the sides of her head in a futile attempt to sweep the thick, loose tendrils into some form of acceptability, finally giving up the notion as hopeless and letting her hands fall to her lap.
“Two hours.”
“Two hours?”
He nodded and moved away from her. “I decided you needed rest more than you needed coffee.”
Disconcerted that she’d fallen fast asleep on his family’s sofa, she stood and smoothed the wrinkles from her skirt. “Has my mother come yet?”
“No, but my father did, fifteen minutes ago.”
“Oh?” She regarded him in surprise.
“I thought you should know. That’s why I woke you. He’s upstairs with Lanie.”
She hated to intrude on their privacy and deliberated what to do. Since no one had wakened her before this, mother and baby must be faring well. “I should go before my parents return home.”
“I would think they are home already.” He gestured to the mantel clock, and Christiana’s jaw dropped.
“Twenty till six? I had no idea!” In confusion she wondered why Mother had not come; it wasn’t like her to neglect her patients.
“I’ll take you home,” Noah offered.
Christiana nodded shyly. She didn’t wish to put him out—he looked just as exhausted, but she had no desire to walk three miles home in the dark by herself either.
The brisk air did little to keep her awake. Several times she found herself nodding off, the sway of the buggy rocking her to sleep. She woke with a start to realize her head lay against Noah’s strong shoulder. She straightened with a mumbled apology and moved the scant distance to the edge of the short seat.
“I believe this is where you wish to go?”
In the dusky lantern light, he smiled at her, and she realized that the buggy had stopped. She looked to see she was home. She had never been so happy to see the two-story blue and white building in her life.
He helped her down and walked her to the front door.
“It’s been a pleasure and an experience, Christiana. One I will never forget.”
His quiet farewell seemed to hold more than what rested on the surface. It warmed her all the way up the stairs of the dark, quiet house and to her bed. Her last waking thought was to hope she might see the helpful young Mr. Cafferty again.
Somehow, she would see to that.
Chapter 4
Christiana woke, disoriented and uncomfortable. Realizing she slept in her dress, she stripped down to her undergarments then fell back into the cool sheets. Sleep wouldn’t return, but the memory of what occurred in the wee hours of morning did. And at the center was one man with whom she had shared a unique closeness while they worked as a team—more connected than she’d felt to some friends of years.
With sleep elusive, she performed her daily ablutions and dressed. While offering morning prayers, she said a special petition for Lanie and her baby, which led her to remember that her mother had never shown up at the Cafferty residence.
Curious and concerned, she went downstairs. Had something happened to Mother? Had she taken ill?
Her glance went to the entry table, bare except for a fresh vase of flowers. She then noticed the sheet of paper at the baseboard and gasped to recognize her note. She plucked it up and hurried toward the breakfast parlor.
Merciful heavens! Her mother had never seen the note! A gust of wind from the door opening must have knocked it off the table.
Looking healthy and as composed as ever, her mother poured morning tea. Not a dark hair rested out of place. She looked up at Christiana, the laugh crinkles at her blue eyes deepening as she smiled.
“Christiana?” Her smile disappeared. “Whatever is the matter, dear?”
“Lanie had her baby!”
“What?” In clear shock, her mother set down the teapot.
“Last night. I left you a note before I went there.” Christiana held up the paper.
“You delivered the child?” Mother’s soft voice contained both awe and pride.
Christiana nodded. “Her stepson came to collect me.”
“Oh my … I trust there were no complications.”
“None. I was frightened, though I made certain not to show it.” Again Christiana thanked God for His intervention during those anxious hours. “Once I arrived, she was far into her labor. If her stepson—Mr. Cafferty—had not come by to visit, she might have been alone at the end. He assisted me, and a little over four hours later, she gave birth to a girl.”
“Noah Cafferty assisted you?” Her mother looked startled then slowly smiled. “Frankly, I’m stunned that he didn’t insist on a doctor. Lanie told me he shares the views of those who believe midwifery should no longer exist in this day and age.”
Recalling their initial conversation, Christiana wasn’t surprised. But surely, after being a witness to the birth, Noah would have changed his opinions. Thankfully it had been an easy delivery; not all of them were.
“I never supposed I wouldn’t be with you during your first time, dear, but I have long known you were ready for the next step and just needed a boost of confidence t
o get there.” She reached to where Christiana had taken a seat and laid her hand over hers, squeezing it before pulling away. “After breakfast, we’ll visit Lanie and her baby to ensure all is well.”
Christiana smiled and reached for a muffin. Scrambled eggs were in a serving dish on the sideboard, as well as sausages, but she was famished and said a quick blessing, intending to collect more once she took the edge off her hunger.
She’d not yet taken a bite when the bell cord of the front door was pulled.
Remembering that their maid was on vacation, she rose from the table.
“I’ll get that, Mother.”
Once Christiana opened the front door, she blinked in surprise to see Noah there. This time, no concern tightened his relaxed features, and the morning sun brought a sparkle to his dark eyes, enhancing his good looks that the night had only hinted at. For a moment she stared before she remembered her manners.
“Mr. Cafferty, how nice to see you. Lanie and the baby are well?”
“Quite. And it’s Noah.”
At the reminder, she felt a blush but nodded.
“Forgive the intrusion at such an early hour. I thought you might need this.” He offered her mother’s bag of birthing items. She didn’t know she’d forgotten it.
“Thank you, yes!” She held out her hand for the bag, not realizing she still held her muffin. Her face heated further. A smile teased the corner of his lips, causing her to smile at the amusing situation as well. The warmth in his eyes eased any lingering discomfort. Again she found it odd how connected she felt to this man on such short acquaintance.
“Mother and I were just having breakfast. Would you like to join us?”
“I wouldn’t wish to intrude—”
“Oh, you’re not intruding!” At her effusive reassurance and his clear surprise, she added quickly, “Mother will want to meet you. She’s curious about Lanie, and there’s plenty to eat. Mother doesn’t often bake, but when she does she gives her utmost since she loves it so well.” She took the bag and held the door open wider for him to enter.
He looked puzzled by her garbled explanation. Not wishing to demolish the English language further, she didn’t add that in the mode of fitting in with society’s expectations for their class, her parents had hired a maid who doubled as a cook.
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