by Jolene Faye
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"Ok you two, game is over. Come out from hiding now," the soft voice of the Indian woman rang in Sybil's ears against the pounding of her headache. The laughter and playful chatter of her daughter and Little Feather's son echoed against the constant throb of pain behind her eyes. "He is gone now," her voice called as she opened the door and rushed to Sybil's side. Every muscle in her body tensed, her eyes slamming shut as her stomach forcefully expelled the remainder of her breakfast into the pail beside the bed. "Sybil drink this," Little Feather whispered softly as she pulled Sybil back against the pillow and passed a cool cloth over her forehead. Sybil raised her head slowly against the arguing growls of her stomach and sipped the warm bitter tea before opening her eyes. "What did Robert say," she questioned her friend as she lay back against the pillow willing the bitter liquid to stay down. Little Feather exhaled deeply as she dipped the cloth back into the bowl of cool water, looking over Sybil with worry in her eyes. "Little Feather please," she pleaded wrapping her fingers around the soft hand of her friend. Dropping her head low, the Indian woman squeezed Sybil's hand and started softly, "The father has proven his paternity with letters from witnesses. Sybil, Robert showed me the copy of the paper. Cole's name is on it." The hard sob and tears choked Sybil as she sat up and gagged again, her stomach releasing its fit into the pail once again. The soft chanting tone of the elder medicine man's wife flittered between the wrenching gags as the sickness and sadness cursed and tumbled in Sybil's brain. "I.. I have to marry him then," Sybil stuttered between the wrenching gags and tears. "No," the old woman's usually soft weak voice was strong as she spoke in the chanting rhythm of her native language. As Sybil turned her wearily tear weighted gaze toward the old woman, Little Feather squeezed her hand. "Mother says the dark man is your baby's father," she paused as she looked down at the confusion on Sybil's face. "We know that now," Sybil stuttered wondering why the old woman would bring it up again, "You saw the paper saying he was Rose's father." Little Feather listened intently to her mother as she slowly shook her head side to side. Lifting her hand from Sybil's, she pressed her palm against the rumbling growls of Sybil's stomach. "This baby," she whispered softly. Sybil swallowed back the gag trying to force its way out, "No," she screamed as her head sank back into the pillow and the tears overtook her once more.
Dreams haunted her restless sleep as she tossed and turned, waking occasionally at the urging of her stomach to expel her breakfast for the third morning in a row. The muted voices drifting in from the porch mingled with the fight in her mind. "She has to marry Robert, Jed. If Cole takes Rose and finds out about this baby, it will kill her," Little Feather's voice rang clear in the fog of her dreams. "No," the usually weary crackled voice of the old man cut off Little Feather's sentence, "I think this is all wrong. Cole loves her as much as he loves Rose. This is a misunderstanding!" "If the big ranch sells, we can fight for Rose," she heard the strong deep tone of White Eagle's voice over the soft chanting of the elder woman's voice. "Mother says she has seen Sybil and the dark man carrying two children wrapped in their love," Little Feather quieted as she repeated her mother's words in English. Sybil squeezed her eyes closed with tears rushing over her cheeks. She'd dreamed and prayed that someday she'd marry Cole and raise Rose as a family. Even with the news of the infant growing inside of her, she longed for him, but as the other's fears filtered into her thoughts and dreams, Sybil's heart ached at the thought of him trying to take Rose from her. She did love Cole, but losing both her children was not going to be an option. Would Robert still want to marry her knowing she carried the child of another man? He knew all about Rose and loved her dearly, but Rose wasn't Sybil's child by birth. Could he accept being the father of two children that were not his own and if he could, could she love him again or enough to raise both her children? As the sorrow of the tears and the potency of the bitter liquid weighted her eyes, Sybil made her decision as she drifted back into fitful dreams.
"Sybil, my darling," his soft voice echoed in her ears as she cringed at the words. Feeling the weight of his hand on hers and the gentle squeezing did nothing to sooth the foul taste left in her mouth by those words. My darling. Opening her eyes slowly, Sybil jolted, opening her eyes wide as she crawled back in her bed at the flash of her memory reflecting John Henry's face in her eyes. "Sybil, Sybil," his voice drenched in worry as he grabbed her shoulders and shook her softly," Sybil my darling, it's me Robert." Blinking quickly, Sybil narrowed her eyes forcing them to focus on his face. Letting out a low sigh, she relaxed staring into Robert's eyes. "Don't call me darling," she whispered softly as she tried to focus the fuzziness of her brain. Soft laughter surrounded her as he scooted further up the bed and pulled her into his arms. "Ok my love, never again," his voice chuckled over her shoulder as she tensed in the pull of his arms. "That either," she sniffed as she dropped her forehead to his shoulder and cried softly. Robert wrapped his arms around her tighter as he pulled her against him and rocked back and forth. "Shh, shh sweetheart, Father told me you wanted to see me. Tell me, what has you this upset," his voice feathered softly over her ear as his sincerity tugged heavily at her heart. She had made her decision, but sitting here in his arms, the sadness in her soul as he held her close wouldn't let her form the words. After long minutes of rocking her, trying to sooth the heartbreaking sobs that ravaged the body of the woman he loved, Robert sat back lifting her tear stained face to his as he stared deep into her eyes. As if he knew, or felt why she had wanted him here, Robert exhaled softly, "Sybil, will you marry me?" She could feel the warmth of his arms around her. She could see the truth of his love in his eyes. As Sybil opened her mouth to speak, her eyes widened as her stomach clinched. Forcing herself from his arms, she laid over the edge of the bed and gave into the vile burning lava fighting its way free from her stomach. "Sybil," he yelled as he stood and quickly ran around the bed. Pulling her hair back as he reached for the cold cloth in the bowl of water on the bedside table, Robert pressed the damp coolness against her forehead and slumped over her as the sickness wretched her body. Worry trembled in his voice as he rubbed softly over her back and whispered words trying to sooth her. "I'm pregnant," she croaked abruptly through the hurls of gagging. As the weight of his body lifted from her back and the violent throws of her stomach's displeasure eased, Sybil turned her face toward him and swallowed hard.
