Rory placed both of his hands on Catherine’s lower abdomen and started manipulating the babe, gently moving what had to be the babe’s feet and legs upwards, in the direction of Catherine’s right side.
“Slowly and softly begin urging the baby’s head toward you,” Rory instructed Sam. “When he starts to move toward Catherine’s left side, help him. Coax him downwards using little gentle nudges and rolls.” Rory continued to work as he spoke, his normally mellow voice edged with cool control.
Sam could not believe he held his son’s head, cloaked in his mother’s flesh, beneath his hand. He drew on the deepest part of his soul and reached out to his son, wanting to give him a strong will to live. “Wait till you see your first horse. It will be worth all this,” Sam said, his eyes watering. “And wait till you meet your big brother, Little John. You’re going to love him.”
For a second, Sam eyed Little John, who stood bravely near the door.
Little John stepped forward. “And wait till you meet our mother,” the boy said, walking over to them. “You’ll love her as much as I do.”
His son wanted to help his mother. Perhaps it would make Little John feel better about everything that was happening.
“Keep talking to her and the babe,” Rory urged Little John.
“I think you’re the most beautiful mother in the whole world,” Little John said, kneeling and placing his small hand on her shoulder. “And the kindest too.”
This time Catherine heard, he could see it in her eyes, but she was too uncomfortable to speak.
“You’ll like it here brother. Mrs. Wrigley is a very good cook,” Little John added.
The girls giggled and Bear chuckled a little.
Sam continued to concentrate on his role—perhaps the most important and challenging of his entire life.
“Press downward now!” Rory urged him.
“Turn baby. Please turn,” Sam cried, his heart pounding furiously.
And the babe did.
Sam saw it happen right beneath his hands. Right before his eyes. If he hadn’t seen it, he wouldn’t have believed it possible. His heart flooded with hope, but would all be well? He peered up at the doctor.
Rory was smiling.
Thank God! Sam pressed a clenched fist to his lips, trying to hold in the overwhelming emotions burgeoning and whirling with him.
“The babe is now where he belongs,” Rory said. “And thank you, Little John, for helping.”
“Thank you,” Sam told Rory, feeling tears of joy and relief slip down his face, despite his efforts to control them.
The three of them gazed down at Catherine who appeared as white as the sheet covering her. She was breathing rapidly, but no longer seemed to be in pain.
“Take deep breaths, Catherine,” Rory said, “you’re going to be fine.”
“My babe?” she asked, her voice full of hope. “Will he be all right?”
Covering Catherine’s middle entirely with the sheet, Rory said. “That went as smoothly as I have ever seen it happen. Your husband was a great help. I believe you and the babe will both be fine. You should deliver a healthy baby soon.”
Sam kissed and hugged Catherine and then sprung up, filled with so much joy he wanted to shout. So he did. “We did it!” he yelled.
The rest of their family cheered too and Sam didn’t even mind when they all invaded the privacy of their bedroom to congratulate them.
Breathless and feeling exuberant, he picked up Little John and twirled him around. “Did you hear that? You should have a baby brother or sister soon.”
“That will be the best Christmas gift for both of us,” Little John said, grinning.
“Yes, the greatest gift ever! Thank you for helping, Little John,” he said.
“She’s my mother,” Little John said. “I didn’t want her to die.”
Sam leaned his forehead into his son’s brow and said, “She will always be your mother.”
He sat the boy down and Little John went back over to Catherine, who was now surrounded by kneeling women and girls. He watched Little John nudge his way in and kiss his mother on the cheek. Sam was sure her cheeks would be wet with tears of happiness.
Sam’s heart raced within his chest, infused with the joy of having witnessed something so inspirational he would remember every second of it for the rest of his life.
He still couldn’t believe they had done it. His prayer had been answered. “Did you see that?” he asked his smiling brothers.
“Aye,” Bear said. “’Twas the most miraculous thing I’ve ever seen.”
Chapter 27
Rory shooed everyone out of the room, but Sam refused to leave until he gave Catherine one more kiss.
“I love you,” he whispered, kissing her. Her cheeks were still wet with big tears of joy. He wiped them, feeling her love in each drop.
“Thank you,” she told him, “thank you for believing in miracles.”
“I should. You married me didn’t you?”
Catherine smiled warmly and then he helped her to stand. She appeared tired, but her big smile and hair in a tousled disarray made her look wildly happy.
“Miss Henk will help me get tidied up and dressed,” she told him.
“No, you’re getting into bed where you’ll stay until tomorrow morning,” Rory instructed firmly.
She groaned, but nevertheless nodded her assent.
“I’ll bring a tray in with your dinner,” Miss Henk volunteered.
“Go on Sam,” Rory told him. “I just want to feel the babe’s position one more time.”
Reluctantly Sam left and joined the others in the front room. Everyone was talking and laughing, but they all stopped when he entered, turning their heads in his direction.
“Hip hip hooray!” William shouted.
“Hip hip hooray!” everyone repeated.
“Hurrah!” Bear shouted.
“Hurrah!” they all echoed.
“You did it!” Stephen called.
Sam threw up his hands. “Please, wait. I’m as happy as all of you. Nonetheless let’s save the big celebration until after the baby comes. We still have that to go through.” He dreaded it and didn’t want to celebrate too hard until Catherine’s labor was over with and both she and the babe were fine.
“Nonsense,” Jane exclaimed, hands on hips. “What just happened was a miracle and we all know it. Catherine and the babe will be fine. Enjoy this moment. You earned it.”
A big grin spread across his face. He couldn’t help it. Jubilation still filled him too. He struggled to hold his tears of joy in his eyes.
Sam stared down at his right hand, the palm that he used to help his babe find his way. His hand started to shake a little, as he recalled the feel of his son’s head. He lost himself momentarily in his own reveries. At least he thought it was a son. It might be a daughter. Either way, the child would be special. And loved. He already felt a profound and deep bond that nothing could ever destroy.
“Ye look like ye could use a wee droppy,” Bear said.
“Nay, he needs more than a wee one after what he’s just been through,” Artis said.
Bear and Artis pulled pewter cups out of the china cabinet and Mrs. Wrigley, leading Nicole by one hand and Samuel by her other, lured the five children into the kitchen with the promise of hot cocoa. “Captain Wyllie, please tell Dr. McGuffin he’s invited to join us in the kitchen when he’s through,” the cook said as she left. If he wasn’t mistaken, she had tidied herself up a bit since he saw her last.
Sam suddenly realized he had yet to speak to William. “William!” he called, turning toward his brother. “You’re back! I noticed while we were in the bedroom, but I couldn’t say anything to you then.”
William stood next to Kelly, his arm around her waist. “Understandable,” William said, smiling, “considering you were busy performing a rather impressive miracle.”
“It was a miracle, wasn’t it,” he agreed. “But I just did what Rory told me to. He and God deserve the c
redit.”
“Indeed, a great deal of credit,” William agreed, “but so do you.”
“Did all go well with the prisoners this time? Are they safely ensconced in Fort Harrod’s jail?”
“Absolutely. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. For now, we have more pressing matters to discuss.”
“Pressing?”
“Ye’ll see,” Bear said, as though he were part of some conspiracy. “After ye have your drink.”
Sam accepted the cup from Bear. “I’ll see?”
“Aye,” Bear said with a wink. “Ask na more questions, Sam.”
“Drink yer brandy up,” Stephen said.
“To miracles,” William toasted.
“To miracles!” Sam said, believing it the best toast of his life.
Bear and William downed their brandy and then smiled at each other, looking pleased with themselves.
Sam’s brows drew together as he wondered what the two were up to. He brought the cup to his lips and gulped his drink down. The warmth of it strengthened him immediately. “Now?” he asked.
“Will you ladies kindly excuse us?” William asked, interrupting the animated conversation Kelly, Jane, and Artis were having.
The ladies all nodded and took seats near the fire while the men donned their coats and hats and went outside.
“Where are we going?” Sam asked.
“You’ll see big brother,” William said, “just follow me.”
William led him, along with Bear and Stephen, into the barn. They proceeded through it to the attached quarters for Sam’s men. He thought the large room would be dark and cold since the men were on holiday, but it wasn’t. A nice fire crackled in the hearth. As they entered, he heard the strangest sound. A shrill yap. Then another. Two yaps at the same time. “Puppies?” he chuckled.
“Indeed. I got them at the fort,” William said, flashing his brilliant smile. “Both males.”
Sam bent and picked the wriggling one up. He’d always enjoyed the smell unique to puppies. It was right up there with the smell of horses and Mrs. Wrigley’s fresh baked bread. He took a deep whiff and then turned to William. “Why did you get these? You already have Riley.”
The other one stood there wagging its tail energetically. “One is for Artis,” Bear said, picking up the one with a large white spot on his chest and on the tips of his front paws. “’Tis her Christmas present. She had to leave her big black dog Wilson behind in Scotland. It broke her heart.”
“This pup should help heal her heart then. Look at the size of those paws and the length of those legs,” Stephen said, taking hold of one of the pup’s paws. “He’s going to be big, perhaps a hundred pounds or more. Oh dear.”
“What is it?” Sam asked.
“Now Martha and Polly will want to have one,” Stephen said, frowning. “One more mouth to feed.” Stephen was ever the pragmatist.
Sam laughed along with William and Bear.
“The other one is for Little John,” William said, “with your permission, of course.”
“That’s excellent,” Sam said. “I just decided yesterday, or was it the day before? Time is all blurred now. Anyway, I just decided to get him a puppy, when I saw him playing with Riley, when you arrived. For Christmas morning, I was going to draw a picture of a dog and write a promise to get him one next time we went to a settlement.”
“Well, he’s yours to give Little John if you want him. They were litter mates and looked like they’d make fine dogs,” William said. “Getting them here was the only challenge. I found a bag big enough to hold them, put a blanket in the bottom, and cut two holes in the top.”
“You should give the pup to Little John,” Sam said.
“No, I bought him another present,” William said. “He’s yours.”
“Thank you,” Sam said. “How much do I owe you?”
“Not a thing. I’ll get it back in the abundant amounts of food and wine I plan to consume while I’m here.”
“I’ll still owe you plenty brother. You’ll make me look like a hero,” Sam said.
“You are a hero,” Stephen pointed out. “In more ways than one. If my memory serves, you even have a medal given to you by President Washington himself.”
“Speaking of Washington, I have some sad news to report,” William said. “A mail carrier from Virginia arrived at the fort while I was there. He brought dreadful news that’s spreading like wildfire.”
“What is it?” Sam asked, concerned.
“President Washington has died.”
Sam gasped and his mouth fell open. The country had lost its finest hero.
“How?” Bear asked.
“The rider gave us a few details, but I have no idea how accurate they are. He said Washington caught a chill and fell ill. Evidently, he spent a long day on horseback in the frigid rain and snow supervising operations on his estate. Late for dinner and known for his punctuality, Washington insisted on remaining in his damp clothes. The next day, he grew gravely ill.”
Sam squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “When did he die?
“The fourteenth of December, nine days ago,” William answered.
A heavy feeling in his chest, Sam sat the puppy back on the floor. “He wasn’t that old. Mid-sixties, if I remember his age correctly.”
“A tremendous loss for our country,” Stephen said.
“It is a great loss,” Sam agreed, “because he was truly a great man. I’ve never served or fought with better. When he summoned us—all of us battle-weary and exhausted to a man—we could only respond to his voice with veneration and love. Many times, we were starving, frozen, and poorly clothed, and it was simply the sight of him that kept us all going.”
“’Tis clear he meant a lot to ye,” Bear said.
“Yes, he did indeed.” Picking up the pup again, Sam swallowed his emotions. There would be time to grieve the death of Washington later. For now, he wanted to enjoy life with those he loved. “Which one is Artis’ pup, Bear?”
“I’ll keep this one for Artis,” Bear said, petting the pup with the white spot. “I think I’ve already grown attached to him.”
“Good heavens. It’s only been five minutes,” Stephen pointed out.
“Aye, and ‘twas long enough for me to know he’d be perfect for Artis.” Bear clutched the tiny pup protectively against his big broad chest.
“The four of us can take turns watering and feeding them scraps,” William suggested.
“We can check on them and let them out every time we go to the privy. That way the children and women won’t get suspicious,” Sam added.
“Aye, if we all do that, the pups will na get lonely before Christmas mornin’,” Bear said.
“All right,” Sam agreed. “But Stephen, you’re in charge of house training them.”
“Me?” Stephen whined. “Why me?”
“Because you’re the youngest,” William said, laying one of his long arms across Sam’s shoulders. “And we’re bigger.”
William and Sam both grinned at Stephen, daring him to object.
When Stephen started to protest, Sam quickly said, “The real reason is that you’re the best trainer of the four of us. You can train the pups faster than any of us. Have them trained to do their business outside before Christmas.”
“I train horses, not puppies!” Stephen objected. He jumped to grab a puppy about to squat, held him out at arm’s length, and then hurried toward the door.
Laughing, William and Bear shadowed Stephen and Sam followed, smiling and carrying Little John’s pup.
“House trained by Christmas morning,” Sam ordered, using his Captain voice on Stephen. “Gooood boy,” he soothed as he sat the pup down.
“But Christmas is in two days,” Stephen moaned.
“Aye, see if ye can have them well trained before then,” Bear said. “I do na want a pup leakin’ his wee willie onto my bed.”
Chapter 28
Sam poked his head in to check on Catherine as soon as he came back
inside. She appeared to be sleeping comfortably so he quietly closed the door and turned toward the front room.
As he made his way down the candle lit hall, he grinned. He could hear Mrs. Wrigley and Rory having a lively conversation in the kitchen about home remedies. He raised his brows. He thought he sensed an immediate attraction between the two. If this kept up, either he would lose a good cook or William would have to hire a new helper for Whispering Hills.
“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve,” Jane told the three children gathered around her skirts as Sam strode into the front room. Samuel and Nicole had already been put to bed. “Do you know what that means?”
“It’s the day before Christmas,” Martha said, “of course.”
Sam remembered from his own childhood that Christmas is a magical time for children. But he wondered if, at age ten, Martha, was beginning to lose sight of some of the magic. He hoped she would have at least one more year to be enchanted by the season.
Behind the children, Bear sat leaning against the wall on a sturdy cushioned bench, with Artis in his lap. Above the newlyweds, a large sprig of mistletoe hung from the ceiling, which the couple were putting to good use. The newlyweds looked tighter than bark on a tree and it wouldn’t surprise Sam if Bear didn’t find some excuse for the two to leave the room shortly.
“Are you going to tell the children a story?” Sam asked Jane, pouring himself a glass of punch and grabbing a piece of fruit cake before taking his chair. He hoped Jane would. Like many with Scots blood in her veins, she was an excellent storyteller.
Jane held up her copy of ‘The Christmas Frolic; or, Mirth for the Holidays,’ and said, “I’ll be reading a story from this collection.”
“What’s the story about?” Polly asked.
“A ghost,” Jane replied, eyes wide.
“Oh, excellent,” Little John said. “Please tell it, Aunt Jane.”
“Indeed, I will, but not until you three promise to go to bed without complaining and better yet, go to sleep, as soon as the tale is finished,” she said. “It’s growing late, and you all need your sleep to grow properly.”
The three nodded their heads.
Frontier Gift of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 5) Page 21