by Betty Bolte
"Hopefully soon." Benjamin winced as a muffled cry reached his ears. "I can't tolerate much more of this."
"She'll be fine." Walter puffed on his pipe, smoke rising into the darkness. "Women are built to endure the pain of birthing."
Benjamin hoped so. It was a good thing women birthed children, or there would be no children. Not if he had to endure such agony.
They walked along the overgrown path. Distant rustlings and sounds created a background for their occasional conversation. Benjamin could think of no subject worthy of discussion and so chose to enjoy the quiet evening. He kept his ears tuned for changes to the normal sounds, his senses alert.
"I'm surprised you acquiesced to Amy's position on staying here." Walter glanced at him before watching his smoke rings disappear into the sky.
"A day won't change anything." Benjamin ignored the contradictory voice inside. "After the baby is born, we will be off."
Walter cast a doubtful look at him, and Benjamin silently agreed. His plans kept being overturned by the wants of others. Where had his strict discipline fled?
"She needs a more forceful hand to keep her in line." Walter paused and peered at Benjamin. "Whoever marries her has his work ahead."
Walter's harsh and conspiratorial tone irked him. Amy's opinion about the man echoed in his ears. He hadn't believed her when she said Walter had hurt his wife, and still harbored doubts Walter really meant to be physically tough. Enforcing certain standards of conduct ensured a well-structured and orderly household, yet a man must do so with a measure of control. His father had insisted on routines and keeping to them. His own mother seldom took time to play, always concerned with pleasing her husband by maintaining the home and garden. Benjamin's childhood might not have been full of laughter, but he always knew where he stood with his parents. He wanted the same certainty for his own children.
Benjamin's pride still smarted from how easily he'd relented. Amy had given him no choice, really. What was he to do? Drag her kicking and screaming out of the house as though he'd reduce himself to act like some monster? He'd not impair his reputation as a gentleman in such an odious manner.
"Amy is a determined chit, but she will learn the boundaries after we are married." If she'd have him. She kissed him, but did she have any feelings for him? Other than disdain and dismissal?
"Sounded like she'd have none of you for a husband. How will you convince her?"
"I'm not certain." Hell, he had no idea. He would find a way in order to share more kisses and ultimately her bed. "But it's only a matter of time and patience."
"Show her she must mind but be careful not to be too rough." Walter winked at him as though they shared a great secret. "At least not until you both say your vows. The most important one is her obedience to you."
A cool breeze gusted across the garden, raising dried leaves along with bumps on Benjamin's arms. He glanced at his arm and shuddered as he realized the implication of Walter's words. Surely he didn't feel it necessary to be brutal to make a point. "Why is that?"
Walter revealed uneven, yellowed teeth behind his leer. "Because when she disobeys, that gives you the right to correct her so she knows who is in control."
"I hardly think corporal punishment is necessary." Benjamin bit back the rest of his outraged comments, striving for a diplomatic response. He flexed his fingers to relieve the tension from longing to wrap them around the man's thick neck. While the courts held no opinion of appropriate ways for husbands to discipline their wives, his personal belief centered on respect and partnership rather than a husband being a dictatorial overlord.
"A good slap now and again keeps my Evelyn toeing the proper line." Smoke rings floated skyward, slowly disintegrating. His squint fixed on Benjamin.
Swallowing the retort forming in his mind, Benjamin met Walter's stare. "Amy is not a child in need of such correction. Nor, I dare say, is her sister."
Walter squared his shoulders as though preparing to demonstrate his technique for disciplining his wife. "That's not for you to judge, seeing she's my wife and thus my responsibility."
Amy had pegged Walter's brutal approach perfectly. She really did have reason to fear for Evelyn's safety. Good thing she'd talked him into staying. Obviously her lively imagination didn't always color her views. Perhaps he should pay more attention to her opinions of people of their mutual acquaintance. Her observations proved insightful, indeed.
"I'm relieved the British are preparing to abandon Charles Town." Walter resumed walking abruptly, effectively changing the subject. "Once the harbor reopens to trade, my prospects will improve as well."
"For everyone, I'm sure." Benjamin let the previous topic fall but determined he would monitor Walter's behavior nevertheless. He linked his hands behind his back as they paced together down the walk. Besides being a comfortable position, clasping his hands prevented him from punching the bastard. "Then we'll also need to rid the countryside of the renegade loyalists scaring the people."
Walter smacked a large fist into his palm. "I'll happily be part of the hunting party. They've done their share around here as well."
Benjamin frowned. "I thought it was the armies scavenging your farm for victuals and treasures."
"But also these smaller groups of three or four who have attacked and taken whatever they want. It's the main reason I don't spend more time away, for fear my absence opens up the property to more attacks. This is more than a house. It's everything to me. It represents all I've worked for, and my entire family's lineage. I'll die defending my home."
"They attack during daylight?"
"Usually while I'm hunting. It's as if they see me leave and then strike. Having that Abernathy slave hanging about has warded off attacks while I've been hunting rabbits. But I'm sure he won't stay here much longer. Then what else might I do but make quick trips into the fields and woods looking for game?"
Yet another reason to be glad he'd stayed. With Walter away, all the women became even more vulnerable. And soon a baby in the house would add more liability.
"Do you know where they camp?" Benjamin's back tightened as he weighed the risks and opportunities to defend the house. He peered into the darkness, skeletal tree trunks barely discernible against the night sky. In the distance an owl hooted, with an echoing answer a beat later.
"Wish I did." Walter gestured to the trees bordering the garden. "Somewhere in those woods, I dare say. Away from prying eyes. Not too many folks are brave enough to enter."
Benjamin scanned the line of trees, recalling Amy's fear of the forest as well as his own sense of disquiet keeping him alert. What more did she know? Where did she draw the line between her fantasies and reality? Obviously her tales held some truth, but how much? He recalled hearing her entertain the guests at the Allhallows dinner, a smile forming as he heard again the gasps and laughter as she told her tale of the wolf that ate the stranger. She'd exuded charm and beauty, made all the more alluring by the fun her smile displayed.
The back door squeaked open. Benjamin enjoyed the view of her shapely silhouette as Amy hesitated at the threshold. His breath hitched as he drank in her beauty in person.
"Walter?" Amy tilted her head as she peered at them. "Evelyn is asking for you."
Walter removed his pipe from his mouth and stared at her. "Whatever for?"
Amy put her hands on her hips and stared at the man for a long moment, silently blinking. "You're her husband. She's about to have your child. Please, Walter."
"I do not wish to witness such a scene." Walter tapped his pipe on the heel of his hand, scattering spent embers onto the leaf-strewn path.
Benjamin raised his head in astonishment. What man would refuse such a request? Most often witnessing the birth of a child was reserved for the women attending the mother. Husbands found themselves relegated to another room to listen and wait. Waiting must be the most difficult part to play. If it were Amy calling him, he'd be by her side like a well-trained hunting dog.
Amy huffed in the doo
r, and Benjamin confronted the man beside him. "Surely you want to be with your wife when your child is born, man. She needs you."
Walter shook his head and shrugged. "The womenfolk have things well in hand." He shifted his significant weight from one foot to another. "I'll send for the doctor if the witch up there so much as threatens my wife's health, though."
Benjamin had been surprised Dr. Samuels had not already been summoned, given Walter's aversion to Samantha's ministrations. He couldn't press the matter more without either offending Samantha or chancing an altercation with Walter. After his expressed opinion, he could almost hear the satisfying thwack of his fist on the man's jaw, feel the impact on his knuckles. For Amy's sake, he'd refrain, but the thought made it difficult to wipe the smile from his face.
"Walter, please, she's calling for you." Amy stood in the door, the lamplight pooling around her and emphasizing the sheen of her tresses. "Evelyn wishes you to witness the birth of your child."
Benjamin held his tongue with difficulty. The gentle plea pointed to the sincerity of the statement. She waited with the door open, a silent invitation to the willful man. He'd seen her beguile many a listener with her dulcet voice, including himself.
Another shift of the man beside him was followed by a gruff sound of annoyance. "Very well, Miss, if you're not going to leave me in peace then I shall."
She'd woven her spell yet again, and this time pride swelled in Benjamin at the success of her efforts. Her words held more power than he'd previously realized. All the more reason why she must use caution when she spoke or told tales. He smiled at her, despite his inner misgivings, to let her know he approved of her efforts. The ease with which she convinced the blustery husband to relent and be at his wife's side. How could anyone resist her charms, after all?
She caught his glance, and a slight frown appeared in her eyes for a moment. Then she turned her attention back to Walter and opened the door wider, her eyes lit with happiness. "Hurry, then. Evelyn will be glad to see you."
As the door closed behind them, Benjamin's smile melted when he realized for the first time what he'd never considered before.
Amy had changed his plans for him about staying with the same ease. Even more surprising was the fact that he no longer minded.
* * *
"Breathe, Evelyn," Amy urged. "Don't push yet, not until Samantha says it's safe."
Evelyn reclined against the pile of pillows, the many colors emphasizing the pallor of her face. Her hands gripped her round stomach as she resisted her body's instinctive demands. The canopy bed trembled with her efforts. Sweat glistened on her face as she locked eyes with Amy. Suddenly her mouth twisted, and she cried out. "I can't stop it!"
"Almost ready." Samantha's muffled voice emerged from where she worked beneath Evelyn's gown.
"Please, Evelyn." Amy squeezed her sister's hand. "Try, for your baby's sake."
Evelyn struggled to relax, to ignore nature's urgings. Amy barely comprehended how difficult it must be to not respond as her sister felt compelled to do. Amy gripped one tense hand, holding it between two of her own, in a futile effort to share her strength.
A shadow crossed the outer edge of her vision, and she shook her head in annoyance. Walter paced at the far end of the sparsely furnished room, his heavy shoes pounding rhythmically on the carpeted floor. He'd been doing the same thing for hours now, ever since making his command appearance and briefly checking on Evelyn. After she'd seen him, he retreated to the far reaches of the room. His frustration filled the space and irritated Amy, manifesting as a suffocating pressure building inside her chest. Breathing became difficult, and she longed to shoo him away so he'd stop consuming all the air. She'd had to drag the fool into the house and herd him into the room, and then he acted like a caged animal desperate to escape his wife's presence.
Samantha looked up from her inspection under Evelyn's cream-colored nightgown. "I moved the cord without any other issue. I can see the head, Evelyn. Go ahead now, push!"
With a release of her pent-up breath and a low grunt, Evelyn waited for the next contraction and pushed, her face scrunching with the effort, her white cheeks flushing red. After the contraction eased, Evelyn stared at Amy with glassy eyes, sweat-soaked hair hanging limply around her face. "Don't leave me, Amy! I need you. Oh!" Another contraction followed the last in short order, catching Evelyn by surprise.
Amy's hand throbbed from her sister's grasp, but she didn't let go. "I'm here, Evelyn. I'm not going anywhere."
"The head's almost out. Push again." Samantha stood ready to cradle the emerging child.
The three women worked to ease the little life into the room, into the world. With one last push, the boy was born. Samantha quickly dried him, washing him with a clean cloth, and bundled him in a light blanket before handing him to Evelyn.
Amy stared at the tiny face, eyes half-open, mouth already moving as though sucking. Behind her, she heard heavy footsteps, and her shoulders tightened. She needn't turn to know it was Benjamin. He'd been hanging around outside the door, apparently wanting to be close but not in the room.
Amy swallowed a sigh and gazed at her nephew's perfect little face. "He's beautiful, Em."
Evelyn examined her son, then glanced up at Amy with a beatific smile. "He is beautiful, isn't he?"
"What will you call him?" Samantha washed her hands in the basin nearby, then wiped them on a clean towel. "Or will you wait until his first birthday to name him?"
Samantha's question brought to Amy's mind Cousin Elizabeth naming her newborn immediately upon his birth. She elected to not wait. She must have suspected her death likely given her own mother's passing after birthing Emily and Elizabeth. If she had followed what most parents did, putting off the naming and subsequent ceremony until the child's first birthday, who would have named the little one? Emily? Frank? So many children died, though, before they reached one year old that parents found it easier to keep a sort of emotional distance by not christening children right away. Thus the number of grave markers in the churchyard which merely said "Infant Son" or "Infant Daughter."
"We have discussed it but never reached an agreement." Evelyn pulled the blanket away from her son's face, her inquisitive finger stroking the downy cheek. The little boy's head turned, his mouth seeking the touch. As Walter drew nearer, she looked at him. "Perhaps James Christopher Hamilton?"
Walter finally joined the group crowding the bed, his frown disappearing into a proud father's grin. "My son. I have a son."
Amy saw her own irritation reflected on Benjamin's face, along with a deep frown of concern. Something had upset him. What worried him so? Neither said a word. How dare Walter claim the child as his alone after all Evelyn had been through over the last hours?
"You both have a beautiful boy." Ben's eyes fixed on Amy even as he addressed Walter. "You should both be proud and happy about the future of your family."
Amy grimaced when she realized he could discern her disdain for Walter's arrogance and attitude. Fiddlesticks. She'd have to school her expression more carefully. She didn't want anyone to know the depth of her dislike for Walter. As her mother had always said, if you have nothing positive to say, be quiet unless you wanted a reputation as a scold or worse a shrew. Well, she'd be quiet, but she would not stand by and let Walter dominate her sister.
"I love that name." Amy squeezed her sister's hand and plastered a smile on her face.
Evelyn flashed a radiant smile filled with a new mother's love for her child, then returned her gaze to the infant rooting against her breast.
"Unless you want to watch the little one have his first meal," Samantha said to the room at large, "I suggest we let mother and child have some privacy."
Walter coughed and cleared his throat, though his attention remained focused on the boy. "James Christopher is a fine name." He cleared his throat again when Samantha began to arrange the pillows and help Evelyn into a more comfortable position to nurse the child. "We can call him Jim, after my father."
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Evelyn looked up at Walter and nodded. "That's my thought as well." She smiled down at their son. "Jim, welcome."
As Evelyn began to arrange her nightgown to expose a breast, Walter ushered Ben from the room. Their heavy footsteps receded along the hall and down the steps while the ladies looked at each other and shared a smile.
"Amy, can you please fetch some tea for Evelyn? She'll need to eat to help her body produce the milk for the wee one."
Amy grinned at her nephew, pleased as a hog in mud to see him so healthy and her sister finally smiling again. All the trials and pains had produced this fine young boy, and no matter what else happened, she would always love and care for him. Yes, he'd be one spoiled nephew.
Realizing Samantha continued to look at her, she shook herself from her musings and smiled. "I'll be right back." She squeezed Evelyn's hand and hurried from the room, humming.
She walked calmly down the carpeted hall lined with family portraits. One day little Jim's portrait would grace these ornately papered walls. He'd grow big and strong, like Walter, but with a finer sensibility because he would have Evelyn's sweet disposition and Aunt Amy's creative nature to influence his education and temperament. She envisioned picnics along the creek, skipping stones across its merry surface. Long walks down the road, instructing him on the plants and animals all around them. How she would enjoy having him on her lap while telling stories about the animals, and how they interacted with each other and helped each other. Now she had not only a second cousin, Tommy, to help teach but also a nephew. She smiled at the thought.
She hesitated at the top of the stairs as the sound of raised voices drifted up from the entry hall below to greet her. Her earlier irritation returned. Could they not be civil to each other on this most happy day? From the sound of the argument, Walter didn't approve of whatever Ben was saying, though she couldn't make out their words. She grasped the banister and slowly walked down, the carpeted runner muffling her steps. With any luck they would end their heated argument before she gained the main floor.