Maryanne squeezed his hand and gave him a tired smile. “All right, Lawrence, thank you. But don’t look so worried. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”
LaRisa’s opinion of Maryanne rose sharply. Many a woman would have been screaming or whining or both, demanding somebody do something to stop the torment. Maryanne was using her precious store of strength to reassure her husband.
“I know it will, sugar. You hang in there. I’ll be back with the doctor before you miss me.” He smoothed the sweat-soaked hair from her brow and kissed her.
The tenderness, the intimacy in the look they shared, made LaRisa glance away. This was too private a moment for outsiders to witness.
It also made her wonder what it would be like to be that close to a man. To know without doubt that he loved you, to know he would always be there for you, stand beside you, care for you, let you care for him.
Lawrence rushed from the room to fetch Doctor Gonzales.
“Thank you for coming,” Maryanne told LaRisa.
Leery of how Spence’s former fiancée would treat Spence’s wife, not sure she should be here, not sure she wanted to be, LaRisa approached the bed slowly. The smile on Maryanne’s face, while revealing her exhaustion, was nonetheless genuine. LaRisa decided her safest approach would be one of business.
Before she could speak, Maryanne did. “Carlotta, please bring a chair for Mrs. Colton.”
LaRisa marveled. The woman was still gasping for breath to replenish that which the pain had stolen, yet she made the request as though she were seated in her fancy parlor downstairs and had nothing more important on her mind than pouring tea for her unexpected guest.
Without stopping her rosary, Carlotta pushed up from the chair and shuffled her ample weight out the door.
LaRisa watched her go, then tried for a calm look as she turned back to Maryanne.
“Did Lawrence tell you?” Maryanne whispered conspiratorially, a definite twinkle in her tired eyes.
LaRisa bit back a sudden smile. “About the chicken feathers and moth wings?”
Maryanne pressed her pale lips together, then giggled. “Did you ever hear of such? They’re under my pillow.”
LaRisa’s lips twitched. “Are they, uh, helping?”
“According to her, I would be much worse off without them. I just don’t have the heart to hurt her feelings, so I go along with her.”
Carlotta returned then with a small chair with padded and embroidered seat and back, and placed it beside the bed. Her lips never stopped moving, but no sound came, except the huffing of breath. She then went back to her corner.
“Please, do sit down,” Maryanne offered. Then she was silent, too busy fighting off the next pain to speak.
When the pain eased again, LaRisa moistened a cloth that had been left next to a bowl of water on the small, elegant bedside table. She stroked it across Maryanne’s forehead, cheeks, lips.
“Oh, that feels heavenly.”
LaRisa frowned. Up close, the lines of pain and exhaustion were more pronounced. “When did the pains start?”
A flush of color stained Maryanne’s ashen cheeks. “Yesterday afternoon.”
LaRisa paused in the act of dipping the cloth in water again. “Yesterday afternoon?” That would explain why the poor woman looked so ghastly.
It wasn’t lost on LaRisa that two nights ago, had she only been given the chance, she would have yanked every pretty blond hair from this woman’s head, and now she was thinking of her as a “poor woman.” The blond hair wasn’t so pretty today, and suffering had a way of cutting right to LaRisa’s heart.
“At first I didn’t say anything,” Maryanne explained, “because I knew you and Spence were coming to dinner in a few hours. The pains were so mild, and they were about twenty minutes apart. I knew there wasn’t any hurry.”
“And when they got worse?”
“I was…waiting until they got closer together. And I knew Spence had been called away—that’s why you couldn’t come last night. He’s a good man, you know.”
LaRisa cocked her head in question.
“Spence. He’s a very good man. The best.”
LaRisa straightened slowly. “I believe I know what kind of man my husband is.”
Maryanne met her gaze squarely. “I hope you do. And I hope you love him very much, because he deserves only the best. If you…find flaws, I hope you’re smart enough to overlook them.”
They shouldn’t be having this conversation. LaRisa was certain it wasn’t proper at all. She asked anyway. “Meaning you weren’t?”
“Me? Smart? You must be kidding.” Maryanne groaned as another pain overtook her.
LaRisa could see her muscles beneath the sheet actually change shape as they worked to expel the baby from its warm, safe nest. She felt a like tension in her own abdomen, sympathetic muscular contraction. She didn’t realize until Maryanne finally exhaled sharply at the end of the pain that she, too, had been holding her breath.
Maryanne panted for a few moments to catch her breath, while LaRisa wiped her face for her with the damp cloth. Then Maryanne picked up where she’d left off, as though there had been no interruption. “Not back then, I wasn’t smart. I was a stupid, selfish, cruel child. I would say that I made the biggest mistake of my life, but looking back, I think I did Spence and myself both a favor. I would never have been the kind of wife he needs. The fact that he married at all tells me that you must be. Just…for your sake and his, don’t ever forget what a wonderful man he is.”
“You’re talking about his malaria, aren’t you?”
“You know?”
“Yes.”
“And you can handle it?”
LaRisa didn’t think the sudden sharpness in Maryanne’s voice had anything to do with labor pains. “Better than you, from what I understand.”
Maryanne flinched. Eyes downcast, she said, “I deserved that. A two-year-old could have handled the situation better than I did.” Her gaze came up and turned fierce. “He didn’t deserve what I did to him, and I didn’t deserve him. But I’ve grown up since then, and I have Lawrence now. And Spence has you.”
“You should rest,” LaRisa offered. “Save your strength.”
Doctor Gonzales was not available. The note on his office door said he didn’t expect to be back until later that night. LaRisa started to worry. Time was moving slowly, Maryanne’s pains were coming fast and hard, and her strength was being drained away with each one. To add to the problem, Lawrence was in worse shape than his wife. He hovered over her with a worried frown and soft words, alternately wringing his hands like an old maid one minute, smiling and cooing sweet words the next. When Maryanne finally managed to doze between pains, LaRisa motioned him out into the hall.
“Why don’t you go downstairs and eat something?” she suggested as kindly as possible. “Unless I miss my guess, you didn’t get any dinner.”
“Dinner?” he cried hoarsely. “How can I eat when she’s in such torment?”
“Lawrence,” LaRisa said, placing a hand on his arm. “of course she’s in torment. She’s giving birth. And frankly, she’s expending a great deal of energy she needs for other things, on trying to keep you from worrying. If you can’t remain calm, and lend her your strength, then perhaps you can find something to do elsewhere to pass the time.”
The man’s eyes widened. His face turned red. For a moment, LaRisa thought he might order her from the house in sheer rage. Then his breath exhaled and his shoulders slumped. “You’re right. I’m acting like an idiot. It’s just that I’m so worried about her. She’s such a tiny, delicate thing, and this is taking so long. It’s taking too long, isn’t it?”
LaRisa shook her head. “Don’t start borrowing trouble.” But she was worried. “Is there someone else to help, a midwife, perhaps?”
“No,” he said sharply. “My mother and my sister both died at the hands of midwives. I’ll not have one near my wife.”
LaRisa didn’t know enough about childbirth to know
for certain, but it seemed possible to her that if this baby didn’t come soon, Maryanne was going to run out of strength. “Lawrence, we may not have any choice.”
He swallowed and nodded, his face turning gray. “I know. I know.”
“Perhaps you could send someone out to the Bar D. I know Spence will come as soon as he sees the note, but it’s possible he could get sidetracked by another patient before he reaches the office if he doesn’t know he’s needed here.”
Relief flooded Lawrence’s face. Here, at least, was something he could do. “You’re right. I’ll send someone right away. I’ll just tell Maryanne—”
“I’ll tell her. You go on,” she said gently. “And when you come back, remember, she needs your calm confidence, not your worried fretting.”
He smiled sheepishly. “Yes, ma’am.” He took her hands in his and squeezed. “I’m so glad you’re here. You’ll never know how glad.”
“Is he gone?” Maryanne asked when LaRisa returned to the bedroom.
“He’s gone to send someone to make sure Spence doesn’t get waylaid by another patient on his way here.” LaRisa resumed her seat by the bed. “He’ll be back soon, so why don’t you put this time to good use?”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, the next time the pain comes, scream your fool head off. Holler. Cuss. Even a good moan or two might help. Just quit being so damn…polite. Quit being so brave.”
Maryanne gave a tired smile. “Wouldn’t the old timers love this? An Apache telling a white girl to be brave.”
“Yeah, well,” LaRisa said with a grin. “You’re spoiling some of my favorite preconceptions. I thought all white people were rank cowards and weaklings, and you’re making a liar out of me. But go ahead and scream anyway. That doesn’t have anything to do with bravery or strength. It has to do with letting off some of the pressure you’ve been putting yourself under. You’ve got enough to handle just now without worrying about being polite.”
When the next pain came, Maryanne screamed.
“There, now,” LaRisa said in the lull. “Wasn’t that better?”
With her eyes closed, Maryanne smiled faintly. “If I tell you the truth, will you swear not to tell anyone what I said?”
“I promise.”
“You’re sure?”
“Haven’t you heard? An Apache never breaks a promise.”
“Okay, then. The truth is, it didn’t help one damn bit. But I might try it again later, just to be sure. You can admit that I screamed, but not that I cussed.”
And so the afternoon went, with gentle teasing and encouragement, and an unexpected bond of friendship forming between the two women.
As the shadows lengthened and the light waned, LaRisa’s fear for Maryanne increased. The pain was so severe, so fast, so hard, she didn’t see how the woman could last much longer. And not a sign of the baby, or the doctor.
“Dammit,” Lawrence whispered fiercely, “she can’t take much more of this.”
LaRisa gave him a sharp look. “She’s got her hands full right now. She can’t be worried about what you think she can take. Go pour yourself a drink, Lawrence. The rider you sent to the Bar D said Spence was on his way.”
“That was twenty minutes ago. It’ll be sundown soon. How much longer can Maryanne last?”
LaRisa was never so glad to see anyone in her life as she was Spence when he arrived at sundown, even if he did look as done-in as Maryanne.
“Thank God you’re here,” Lawrence said. “Do something for her, Spence. You have to do something.”
Spence nodded to Lawrence, but his attention was already on Maryanne. LaRisa watched his concern deepen as he took in the woman’s appearance. He then gave LaRisa a smile so sweet and so full of utter weariness it made her heart ache.
He turned his attention back to Maryanne. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m…still here. But I…think it’s time…to do it again, LaRisa.” She sent a message with her eyes that LaRisa understood at once.
“Lawrence,” LaRisa said. “Spence needs to examine Maryanne. Why don’t you and Carlotta and I go downstairs and give them some privacy?”
Lawrence looked appalled. “I can’t leave her,” he cried.
“Lawrence,” she said patiently. “Trust me. You do not want to watch while another man looks up your wife’s skirts.”
Spence choked.
Lawrence gaped and flushed.
From the bed came a weak giggle. “Go, Lawrence. It’s all right.”
LaRisa saw the pain rise in Maryanne’s eyes again and hustled the others out the door. She tossed Maryanne a look over her shoulder. “Go ahead. Cut loose.”
Maryanne was past hearing. LaRisa barely had the door closed when the scream broke loose. She then had to throw herself bodily across the door to keep Lawrence from running back to his wife.
“Don’t you dare,” she hissed. “She’s been holding that back for hours, waiting for you to leave the room.”
She convinced him not to go barging back in, but she could not convince him to leave the hall outside his wife’s room.
“You really…have to look…up my…skirts?”
Spence forced a smile for her benefit. He didn’t like this. Maryanne had never been a particularly strong person, physically speaking. Her labor had been going on longer than he liked. Her color did nothing to reassure him. Lawrence was right—she couldn’t take much more.
He gently pulled the sheet away. “Yes, I really have to look. I have to see what’s going on, what’s taking so long.”
“Okay,” came her whispery voice. While he raised her gown and her knees, she licked her lips.
Spence gave her a cocky smile. “Ah, at last, some color in your cheeks, even if it is just a blush.”
She licked her lips again. “Spence…have you ever…forgiven me for…the way I…treated you?”
“Hush now. That was a long time ago. There was nothing to forgive. I’m going to touch you now.”
She flinched slightly and stared at the ceiling. “I was such a coward back then, such a child.” The words came out in a rush. “LaRisa is a much better wife for you than I ever would have been.”
Spence silently agreed. “Hush, now. Save your strength.”
“You care for her very deeply, don’t you?”
Startled, Spence shot her a look.
“It’s in your eyes when you…look at her.”
She would have said more, but another pain built and crested. Spence continued his examination. There was no doubt in his mind now. She wasn’t going to be able to deliver this baby. Not the usual way.
“Maryanne, do you trust me?”
“I’m going to die, aren’t I?”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Absolutely not!” Lawrence’s face was a ghastly shade of pasty gray.
“She’s already agreed,” Spence told him. “And it’s the only way. The baby’s head is too big, Lawrence. They’ll both die if I don’t do the Cesarean section.”
“But…but to cut her open! That’s—”
“A lot less drastic than watching her die while we stand around doing nothing,” Spence shot back.
Lawrence paled even more.
God, Spence was tired. So tired that he knew he had no right to attempt surgery. Hell, he couldn’t even handle Lawrence with tact. How was he supposed to be able to handle a scalpel? But he had no choice. He braced a hand on the wall outside the bedroom and prayed for strength. Maryanne and the baby would die without a Cesarean. He didn’t have time or energy to spend on Lawrence.
“What do you want me to do?” LaRisa asked.
The voice of calm reason. Spence was grateful. So grateful, he wanted to fall into her arms and weep.
He was overreacting. So he was a little tired. So he’d never done a Cesarean section before. So he hadn’t done anything resembling major surgery in years. So this was a friend he was about to operate on, rather than a stranger. A woman he had almost married. Were any of those thin
gs reasons to worry?
All in all, he’d been doing well since Mac had left. Just yesterday Spence had felt the old enthusiasm start to build. The confidence that he’d lost so long ago. The realization that yes, he really could help people.
Now this. He was scared. Scared was no way to do surgery.
He straightened away from the wall. He could do this. LaRisa’s steady gaze told him he could. “I can’t operate bending over the bed. Find me a table and scrub it down. We’ll need clean sheets and towels, boiling water—all my instruments have to be sterilized.”
LaRisa followed Spence’s orders and got everything ready. Lawrence carried Maryanne downstairs to the dining room and laid her on the sheet-draped mahogany table beneath the ornate chandelier.
Maryanne had just enough strength left to protest. “Not the dining room table. It’s a family…heirloom.”
Lawrence smoothed her hair back from her face. “Come on, sugar, we just bought it two years ago.”
“Well, it was supposed…to become…a family heirloom.”
Just before LaRisa began administering the chloroform, Maryanne gave Spence a half-hearted smile. “Tell me again you know what you’re doing.”
Spence squeezed her hand. “Would I lie to an old friend? I’ve done this a dozen times. Now hush up and go to sleep. When you wake up, it’ll all be over. You’ll have a brand new baby to take care of.” He gave a nod to LaRisa to proceed.
Then he turned to the side board where his instruments were laid out to cool. He took off his suit coat, rolled up his shirt sleeves, and wished like hell he was doing this in the surgery room at Mac’s rather than on a damn dining room table.
“Lawrence,” he said. “I think now would be a good time for you to go pour yourself a stiff drink and sit down somewhere.”
“I’m not leaving her,” the man stated.
Spence finished scrubbing his hands with soap, then washed them with calcium chloride to lessen the chance of any germs getting into the blood stream and causing infection.
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