by Becky Lower
Hannah led him to where Susannah lay, writhing in agony. She relaxed a bit between contractions, and smiled at Hannah.
"Thank you, honey, for bringing Raoul. He'll help me now. You head out to the kitchen and get started on breakfast."
Raoul stared at her, his mind screaming.
"What do you need?"
"This baby is turned the wrong way to enter the birth canal. I've seen it several times before, and I need someone who is strong enough to turn the baby around while it’s still inside me. You seem to have been elected." She exposed her belly to him. "See the head, here?” She wrapped her hand around a small round protrusion.
“If you can turn it so it faces down instead of sideways, I'll get this baby delivered."
Raoul began to shake and averted his eyes. "I cannot."
"Of course you can. You're the only one who is strong enough to help me."
He turned his back on her swollen belly, even though the sight of her naked stomach mesmerized him. "No, I cannot. My wife died while giving birth to our son."
Silence filled the air for a moment. "Raoul, look at me." Susannah commanded.
He turned to her.
"I am sorry Pale Moon died in childbirth. But, I can tell you with conviction, no one is going to die here today, but only if you'll help. You may not have been able to do anything for your wife, but you can do this for me. Please, for the sake of my children, help me."
Raoul tasted the bile in the back of his throat. He had killed one woman, at least in his mind, in childbirth, and had made a vow not to ever place a woman in harm’s way again by getting her with child. Now, he was being asked to help another avoid the same fate as his wife. Could he manage to save this woman, or would he, by putting his hands on her and doing as she bid, also kill her? Was this to be his destiny, why he was sent to the side of the flaxen-haired woman? His stomach pitched as his mind raced, searching. His entire body trembled. He closed his eyes, praying for an answer, reaching out to his grandfather for guidance. A sense of calm came over him, where panic had been mere moments before. His trembling ceased. Perhaps the gods, and his grandfather, had not forgotten about him.
He stared at her for a long moment and then took a deep, calming breath.
"Show me what I am to do."
Susannah's eyes teared up and she gulped a breath. "Thank you. I won’t ever forget this. What I need you to do is to apply pressure to my abdomen and move this child so his head is facing down. Right now, his shoulder is in the birth canal. Here, give me your hands and I'll show you where to place them."
She placed his hands on either side of her swollen belly and stared at him. "Are you ready?"
He could not break eye contact with her. "Will I hurt you?"
"Yes, but the alternative is worse. Please, use all your strength to turn this little one."
Raoul began to assert himself, and pushed on Susannah's stomach with all his strength. She whimpered her pain, her lips stretched over her teeth to hold back the scream and he backed off, afraid.
She grabbed his hands again. "No, keep going. I can feel the baby moving. You're doing well."
He pushed again on what he assumed was the child's arm and torso. He noticed a shift in the lump that was the baby. Slight, but significant. Increasing his effort, he pushed again, as the sweat dripped from his face onto Susannah’s stomach and she moaned in agony. Raoul lost track of time. His world narrowed to him and Susannah and the child. After what seemed like hours, with one final push, the baby's head dropped into the birth canal. Susannah stilled his hands finally, but kept hold of them.
Raoul moved away from Susannah a bit, no longer on top of her, as her labor pains now began in earnest. She squeezed his hands as a contraction ripped through her body. He was dripping in sweat, but aware Susannah was not safe yet. She still had to deliver this child. Raoul's head swam with images of the bruises on her abdomen, which would no doubt appear as the result of his efforts, and of the birth about to happen. Pale Moon had so much blood associated with her struggle, and the picture was not something Hannah should see. Yet, she was the only choice to help with this delivery. There were some things a man should not take part in. Especially if the man was not the father.
In between contractions, Susannah caught her breath. “Bring Hannah to me now, Raoul. She can help with the rest. You shouldn’t bear witness to the birth.”
“I’ll stay in the other room and do what I can to help. Hannah’s too young to take care of you on her own, and take care of the rest of the children, too.”
He added more wood to the stove and asked Hannah to return to her mother while he gathered up some towels and to start heating up bath water for the new child making its entry into the world. He had been on the periphery as many Indian children were born and hot water and towels were a necessary part of birthing. He had them waiting for Susannah and Hannah, who were on the other side of the wall. He listened as a wail of pain cut through the air, and his heart caught in his throat. It was the same sound Pale Moon had made. Despite his best efforts to turn the baby, Susannah might suffer the same fate as his wife had. And then what would happen to these children? His trembling began anew, and he rested his head on the table for a moment. Jacob, Lydia and George were gathered around him, and he sensed their need for comfort. He pulled George up onto his lap and wrapped an arm around the other two who stood on either side of him. He needed to be strong for this family and searched the room for something to distract them from the drama in the next room, but could find nothing.
“Are you children hungry?”
They shook their heads and continued to press into him. “Hannah fed us dinner a while ago,” Jacob replied.
“Are all your chores done for the day?” Raoul hoped that keeping things as normal as possible would distract them from the moans of their mother.
“Yes, sir. We should probably get ready for bed now, though.”
“It is nighttime? Then I agree.” Raoul had lost all sense of time. He would take Jacob at his word that it was time for them to bed down for the night. The children left his side and climbed up to the loft, taking the warmth of their companionship with them.
"I can feel the baby coming. Can you check, Hannah?" Susannah’s voice came to him from the other room. He held his head in his hands and waited, his ears tuned in to the drama unfolding on the other side of the wall, his stomach tied in knots.
"Yes, I can see the head, Mama. What shall I do?"
"When I push next, grab hold of the head and guide the body out."
"All right. Tell me when."
"I feel another contraction happening. Here we go."
“The baby’s coming, Mama! The head and shoulders are out.”
Raoul moaned into his hands, reliving Pale Moon’s attempts at birthing.
“Clean the mouth and nose out if you can, so he starts breathing. One more push should do it.”
Before he pieced together what had happened, Hannah’s small shout of delight came to him, along with the wail of a newborn.
"It's a girl, Mama! I have another baby sister."
"Thank you, Hannah. Hand the baby to me while you cut and tie off the cord, just as you did when George was born. That’s my big girl. Can you give her a quick bath while I talk to Raoul? Please send him in.”
Raoul raised his head as Hannah exited the bedroom with her little sister, wrapped in a towel.
“Here, Lone Wolf. You should be the first to greet the baby.” She walked over to where he was sitting, so he could see the child. The child who would not have made it into this world without his help. He touched her tiny cheek with his thumb, and his heart opened to her. She was as much his child as she belonged to her birth father.
“Mama asked to talk to you. I’ll get this little one cleaned up while you and Mama visit.”
Raoul swallowed the huge lump in his throat. “I warmed up some water for you to bathe the baby in, and heated some towels.”
Raoul rubbed his hand over his eyes
, stood and opened the door to the bedroom, where Susannah lay. Even in her exhaustion, and with her hair going every which way, he thought she was beautiful. He moved to her side.
“Without your help, this baby wouldn't have made it."
The unspoken words 'Nor would have I' resonated with him. Raoul's entire body began to shake again as he again locked stares with Susannah.
“You gave me a fright.”
“Until tonight, I had no idea Pale Moon’s death was caused by her giving birth. It took enormous courage for you to do as I asked. I appreciate you overcoming your fears to help me. We thank you.”
He nodded, and Susannah reached for his hands. “Such strong hands…” She brought them to her lips and kissed them before letting go. Hannah strode into the room with a freshly washed baby.
"What shall we name her, Mama?"
Susannah kissed the top of the baby's head, as she cradled the baby. She turned her gaze back to Raoul.
"Because this child never would have made it into this world without your help, you deserve to name her. What will you call her?"
Raoul swallowed the lump that had again lodged in his throat. "I should not be the one to name your child. That honor should belong to your husband."
"A husband who is not here, and as yet, is not in possession of the fact there is now another child in this family. You played a very vital role in bringing this baby into the world. So you should have the honor of naming her, not William. Tell me, what name were you considering for a daughter when Pale Moon was with child?"
Raoul rolled his shoulders. He had never discussed his private conversations with Pale Moon with anyone, not even his grandfather.
"Our tribal legend says that many years ago, my people split into two camps. One camp stayed behind, north of the Great Lakes, where my grandfather still lives. The other migrated south and west, and ended up in what is now Missouri, forming a new tribe. My mother and father settled in Missouri, even though they met in Canada. So Pale Moon and I had decided to name our daughter, Missouria, after the long-ago tribe."
Susannah smoothed her pale hair back from her face as she contemplated the name. "Missouria. I would be honored to name this child after the daughter you never had. Would you approve?"
"Only if you give her a second name. With a name of Missouria, she will be teased, or tormented. She may find a second name easier to deal with."
"All right then. How about Missouria Belle?"
Raoul nodded. "That will do."
"Thank you once again, Raoul. Missouria and I should be fine now. Hannah will help with the rest of the cleanup. If you'd prefer, you can stay here in the warm house rather than go to the barn. At least, for tonight."
Raoul was tempted to stay, but his pledge to himself made him strong. "I will head back. The animals need tending. I am glad you and the babe are safe and well."
"We would not be, if not for you."
"It was my destiny to be here when you needed me. I am now aware of why I was sent here. And how I can leave with a clear conscience as soon as I am able to get down from this mountain."
Hannah took the baby back from Susannah and wrapped her in a blanket. “I’ll be back in a minute, Mama, to clean things up. I need to talk to Lone Wolf, first.”
Hannah walked beside Raoul into the main room of the house, closing the door to the bedroom. She then handed the small bundle to Raoul.
"Lone Wolf, what do the Indians do to celebrate a new birth?”
Raoul’s stomach clenched as he gazed down into the tiny face of the girl baby he’d had a major hand in birthing. He glanced back to Hannah, who continued her line of questioning.
"I'm sure there is a blessing, or something, the Indians do when a child is born. Will you do it for her? It seems only right."
Raoul lowered his head, inhaling the baby's scent. He should leave right now, and not spend one more day here. He should not have allowed this child to be given the name he was going to give to his own child. He should not bless this child in the Indian fashion.
He stopped at the window and glanced outside, into the darkness. The difficult birth had taken all day. The winds had calmed down and the moon and stars were bright in the sky.
“Are the rest of the children asleep?”
She glanced up at the loft, and listened to the gentle sounds. At her nod, Raoul continued.
"Put on your coat, Hannah, and wrap the child tightly into a blanket. We will go outside for a few minutes. Then, this child needs to go back to your mother, so she can get her belly full."
In the middle of the yard, he and Hannah stood, the baby in his arms. Raoul began to sing an Indian chant, and his feet shuffled. Hannah mimicked his behavior, humming along, even if she was unfamiliar with the words being sung. Raoul lifted the child over his head, the moonlight bouncing off her tiny cheeks, praising the gods for this new life. He brought the babe, who was awake but quiet, back into the crook of his arm and cradled her. Her eyes opened to stare at him with their fuzzy gaze.
"Missouria will be quite the name to live up to. But you will be up to the task. Welcome to the world, little one."
He handed the baby back to Hannah, and then made his way to the barn. His heart would be heavy when he left the little farm as soon as the weather broke.
♥•♥•♥
When the small, mewling cries of her newborn daughter woke her, Susannah held the child to her breast and pondered the previous day’s events. Raoul had witnessed her trying to give birth, something her husband had never even done, despite the fact there had been six children born before this one, only four of which had survived. She should be mortified that the eyes of a strange man witnessed this most intimate act, seen her naked swollen belly, laid his hands on her for hours.
Instead, she was grateful. She had assisted in enough births over the years to be well aware if Raoul hadn't been here, if he hadn't manipulated this child around so she would exit the birth canal, Susannah and the child would be dead. How do you repay someone for saving your life? For giving your child her life?
But, truth be told, his participation in the birth of little Missouria was not the first time he'd saved them. All of them. Without his help this winter, they would have either frozen to death or starved.
Susannah leaned down and kissed the head of her little girl. Then, she pulled back the covers and stared at her own belly. She placed her hand over one of the bruises left behind by Raoul’s strong hands.
"Missouria, we are so grateful to see today. And we will be forever in Raoul's debt."
Hannah had relayed the blessing ceremony Raoul had performed in the yard, welcoming the baby to the world as if she were an Indian girl. With a name of Missouria, Susannah was certain she would be faced with prejudice once she encountered the outside world. Even if Sully verified Susannah had been with child before William left their mountain top, suspicions would be raised, especially if anyone ever found out about Raoul's presence on their mountaintop this winter.
Especially if they were aware of his involvement with the birth of her daughter. Their daughter. Especially if they had any inkling of how often she'd dreamed of Raoul putting his hands on her body for another purpose, altogether. She leaned her head over her daughter and kissed her again.
"Ah, William, where are you? I keep telling myself you’re doing your civic duty and I should be proud. But, the fact is you are not aware of this babe, or that I was ever pregnant. I would have died without Raoul. Your children would have been left to fend for themselves for the remainder of winter. Do you even care anymore?"
Tears slid down her cheeks as Missouria tugged on her breast. She missed her husband, every day. But she was also tempted by the man in the barn. His strong Indian features taunted her dreams at night. The sharp planes and angles of his face were in direct contrast to his good, gentle nature. The fact he was so caring with her children brought a smile to her lips through her tears.
He would move on, come spring, if not before. He had only pro
mised her he’d stay until the baby was born. Sully would pay a visit with news of William and the other men who were off fighting a war she didn’t comprehend. Susannah would show off her new baby, and life would once again return to normal. This fall and winter had been merely an interlude in their lives. Something that was forged into her memory. Something she would be better off scrubbing from it.
The baby fell asleep once her belly was full and she was burped. Susannah laid her in the cradle, and got out of bed, for the first time since the birth. Even though her body ached, and her stomach was badly bruised, there was so much to do, and her children needed to be fed. She ran a hand over her tangled hair and her eyes went to the window. She wondered if she'd ever be able to make eye contact with Raoul again, after having exposed herself to him in such a fashion. How long would it be before she'd see him again? Was he feeling odd about yesterday, too? Her stomach jumped as she caught sight of smoke rising from the barn's chimney. Raoul was awake and stoking the fire in the stove. Would he come to the house for breakfast?
Mortified, and grateful. The two contrasting emotions warred with each other, just as Susannah wrestled with the need to get closer to Raoul and keeping him at arm's length, honoring the commitment to her husband. She was a married woman, he was half-Indian. Two huge reasons why they should never be together. At least, she thought she was still married. With the slowness of correspondence, William could have died in battle months ago, and she wouldn't find out until spring. Her guilt over her attraction to the man currently in her line of sight would have been for naught all these months. Still, she was, as of right now at least, a married woman and shouldn’t even be having lustful thoughts about another.
But even if William were no longer in the picture, she couldn't saddle her children with the torment they most certainly would endure having an Indian father. Even in these enlightened times, being one-quarter Indian would be frowned upon. Even if Raoul was their father in name only, the stigma of having an Indian stepfather would be there for them to live with every day. People would search the faces of her children, looking for signs of Indian blood, even if they had none. A high cheekbone, a hawk nose, or dark hair would be discussed. The fact that William, their actual father, had high cheekbones and a hawk nose would be forgotten as the good people of town laughed at her children's mixed heritage. Or what they supposed was mixed heritage.
