As White Eagle mounted up again, the marshal got on first, then held his hand out to Rose. She grasped it and swung up behind him.
"Hold on," Flint grunted. He wheeled his horse and urged it to a gallop behind White Eagle's mount.
Time still seemed to drag for the scout, but at last they reached Pierre Dandaneau's house. White Eagle sprang from his mount and ran up the walk, anxious to see if Katie was all right. Flint helped Rose down, and they quickly followed him.
As White Eagle stepped onto the porch, the front door flew open. Pierre, swaying wildly, loomed in the doorway. In the time he had been gone, White Eagle thought, Pierre had probably finished that bottle.
Pierre stared blearily past White Eagle and glared at Flint and Rose, who were about to climb onto the porch. He grabbed his son's arm and growled, "I told you not to bring that damned sawbones back here!"
"Get out of my way, old man!" White Eagle shoved Pierre aside.
Pierre staggered back a step, then reached into his coat. He whipped out a pistol and leveled it at White Eagle. "Hold it right there!" he ordered harshly. "I'm tired of you tryin' to boss me around, boy. This is my house, and my word is law, you hear!"
White Eagle, Flint, and Rose froze. The scout stared at his father in disbelief. After a moment of tense silence Flint said, "No, Dandaneau, I represent the law around here, and I'm telling you to put that gun down."
Pierre looked belligerently at the marshal. "Doesn't a man have the right to protect his own wife?" he demanded. "Haven't seen a doctor yet who didn't do more harm than good!"
"You're not trying to protect anyone," White Eagle said. A muffled cry came from inside the house, and he knew that it came from Katie. It took all his willpower to keep from leaping at his father, gun or no gun. "You're just trying to impose your will on everyone, like the arrogant fool you are."
"Your wife needs help, Mr. Dandaneau," Rose said in a calm voice. "I'm sure once you think about it, you'll see that we're just trying to help her."
Pierre drunkenly swung the gun's muzzle back and forth between White Eagle and Flint. "You go to hell, lady!"
"That's enough, Dandaneau," Flint snapped angrily. "Put the gun down. We're going in, and if you try to stop us, I'll do whatever I have to."
The gun wavered slightly. Pierre had lived in Abilene long enough to know about Lucas Flint's reputation with a gun. White Eagle held his breath. He wanted to help Katie more than anything, but he didn’t want to see his father gunned down.
Pierre let the pistol droop. With a grimace, he stepped aside.
White Eagle heaved a sigh of relief as he ducked through the door. Rose swept in behind him. Flint stepped onto the porch and started past Pierre. Suddenly, Pierre's face contorted with rage, and he lifted the gun to slash at Flint's head.
The marshal flung his left arm up to block the blow as his right fist smashed into Pierre's jaw. Pierre flew back and slammed against the wall of the house. The marshal's hand closed over the cylinder of Pierre's pistol and wrenched the weapon free. As he stepped back quickly, he whipped his Colt from its holster.
"You'd best stay right where you are, Dandaneau," Flint grated. "I'd almost enjoy putting a bullet in you right now."
Inside the house, White Eagle and Rose had reached Katie's bedroom. As she questioned Katie in a soothing voice, Rose checked her pulse. Katie gasped out the answers between her cries of pain.
"The contractions are very close together now," Rose said to White Eagle, who was hovering anxiously near the bedside. "I'll need clean sheets and some hot water to sterilize my instruments. Can you tend to that?"
The scout nodded. "Right away," he said. He was glad to have something to do. The tasks would distract him.
White Eagle walked quickly to the kitchen. He started a fire in the stove, set a pot of water on to boil, then went to look for clean linen. By the time he found some in a hall closet and hurried back to Katie's room with it, Rose had finished her preliminary examination.
The look on the doctor's face sent a shudder of panic up White Eagle's spine. "What is it?" he asked.
Rose shook her head, leaned over Katie, and wiped the beads of sweat that glistened on her forehead. "You rest for a moment, Katie," Rose said quietly. "I'll be right back."
Placing a hand on White Eagle's arm, Rose drew him out into the hall. Clearly, she wanted to tell him something that she wanted to keep from Katie. That only increased White Eagle's anxiety. He would rather face another battle, outnumbered, against hostile Quanah Parker, than live through these moments worrying about Katie.
"What's wrong?" he demanded in a low voice.
"That baby is ready to come," Rose whispered, "but it's in the wrong position. It's what we call a breech birth. The fact that Katie's body is rather small doesn't help matters, either."
White Eagle took a deep breath. "So what are we going to do?"
"I have to turn the baby so that it can emerge properly. But to do that, I'll have to wait until it's descended further so that I can reach it better. If I wait too long, it'll be too late to turn it correctly. This is a very delicate situation, White Eagle."
"You can do it, can't you?"
Rose looked at him intently, then said, "I'll do the very best I can. That's all I can do."
White Eagle closed his eyes. Finally, he nodded and opened them again. "I'll do whatever I can to help," he said.
Rose squeezed his arm. "I know you will."
Together, they returned to the room where Katie waited.
It was the longest night of White Eagle's life. There was a clock on the wall opposite Katie's bed, but every time he glanced at it, the hands seemed frozen.
Long before ten, Katie was raving and thrashing from the pain. Rose helped her through the contractions and encouraged her to rest between them, but the agony was too much for the young woman. Finally, the doctor took a needle and an ampule from her bag.
"I have to give her something to ease the pain," Rose explained as she prepared the injection. "She'll need all her strength for the delivery. I hope this will help her through it without knocking her out."
"I thought the baby would be here by now, the way you were talking earlier," White Eagle said.
"So did I," Rose replied grimly. "Katie is in hard labor, but she isn't dilating. Until she does, I can't turn the baby."
White Eagle paced over to the window and pushed back the curtain to stare into the night. He was used to facing problems that could be solved with guns and knives and fists. He had never felt so helpless in his life as he did now.
Katie cried out again, and the sound struck at his soul.
Sometime around midnight, Lucas Flint appeared in the doorway and motioned for White Eagle to join him. In a low voice, the marshal said, "Your pa's asleep now, White Eagle. He finished off another bottle of whiskey before he passed out. He'll have quite a head in the morning."
"Just as long as he doesn't cause any more trouble tonight," White Eagle replied. "Thank you for keeping an eye on him, Marshal. For a while there, I was afraid one of us was going to have to shoot him."
"So was I," Flint agreed. "Anything I can do to help in there?"
White Eagle shook his head. "Not unless you'd like to say a few prayers."
Flint grinned tiredly. "Couldn't hurt," he said.
White Eagle clapped a hand on the lawman's shoulder and shook his head wearily. Then he turned to enter the room again.
In the early hours of the morning, White Eagle found himself leaning over Katie's bed, holding her hand tightly and uttering words of encouragement. At the foot of the bed, Rose Keller called excitedly, "I've got him! The baby's turned now! Bear down, Katie, push! Now!"
Sweat covered the faces of the three people. Katie shrieked in pain and effort, her back arching off the bed. Then suddenly she relaxed and went limp.
A moment later, there was a tiny, high-pitched cry.
"It's a girl!" Rose announced in a voice that trembled with strain and relief. She worked quic
kly as she cleaned the baby's nose and mouth, then cut the cord.
White Eagle squeezed Katie's hand, and she opened her eyes to gaze up at him. The medication Rose had given her was starting to wear off, and White Eagle could see the comprehension in his stepmother's eyes as she said, "I...I...we did it, didn't we? The baby's all right?"
White Eagle glanced at Rose and got a quick, confirming nod. "The baby's fine," he said. "It's a little girl, a beautiful little girl."
Rose wrapped the baby in a clean sheet and moved around the bed with the precious bundle. As she placed it in Katie's arms, she said gently, "Here's your daughter."
Katie moved back the corner of the sheet and smiled at the red, wrinkled face. The baby's eyes were closed, and it was whimpering.
"She is beautiful," Katie whispered. "Don't you think so, White Eagle?"
He reached out, brushed the soft skin of his half-sister's cheek with a fingertip. "Lovely," he said.
He straightened, and the weariness he had held off all night suddenly flooded through him. Leaving Katie cooing and talking to the baby, he went into the hall and tried to stretch the kinks out of his muscles.
Flint, rubbing his face and neck, came out of the parlor. "Dozed off in one of the chairs," he explained with a grin. "How's the mother and baby?"
White Eagle nodded at the fretful cries coming from Katie's room. "They're both doing fine. Dr. Keller worked a miracle or two, I'd say."
"Nothing unusual for Rose," Flint said. "Sorry your pa had to miss it."
White Eagle's expression hardened. "It's his own fault. I'm not sure he deserves that lovely family he's got."
Flint shrugged. "None of my business. But I did want to stay around to make sure he didn't cause any more trouble. Also, I want to see that Rose gets back to her place all right. We can get Mrs. Guthrie to come stay with Katie. She helps with most of the new babies in town."
"Sounds fine," White Eagle nodded.
Wiping her hands on a cloth, Rose stepped into the hallway. "Well, that wasn't the most difficult birth I've witnessed, but it was bad enough," she said with a tired smile. "Luckily, everything went well. That's quite a sister you've got, White Eagle."
He had to grin. "I know."
Flint said, "I told White Eagle we'd see Mrs. Guthrie and send her over."
"That's a good idea," Rose said. "Can you keep an eye on things here for a little while, White Eagle?"
"Of course. Thank you, Doctor, for everything you did."
"I'm just glad Katie has such a good friend as you. She wouldn't have made it otherwise."
Rose gathered her instruments, and promising to send Mrs. Guthrie over immediately, she left with Flint. White Eagle walked wearily back to Katie's room and stood in the doorway watching quietly. Katie was propped up against the pillows now, cradling the baby against her. She looked over the child's downy head and met White Eagle's gaze. "Thank you," she said softly. "Thank you for me...and for Josephine."
White Eagle smiled and said gently, "You're both welcome."
11
As White Eagle moved to the bedside and gazed at mother and child lying in the golden ring of lamplight, tears began to well in his eyes. Katie had named the baby after his grandmother Josephine, and that touch overwhelmed him. He closed his eyes, then blinked back the tears and watched the pair with awe. Despite her pallor, Katie looked more beautiful than ever, and little Josephine was a precious bundle, lovingly held in her mother's arms.
He was as tired as he had ever been in his life, but the joy that coursed through him was incredibly restoring. "You have a lot to be proud of, Katie," he said tenderly. "You have a wonderful baby, and you did a fine job."
Katie smiled at him. "I couldn't have done it without you and Dr. Keller." She looked past him toward the doorway. "Where's Pierre? Why hasn't he come in to see the baby? I can understand why he didn't want to be here while...while Josephine was being born, but I thought he'd want to see her…"
White Eagle hesitated, unsure how much more Katie could endure tonight. He decided she wouldn’t want him to lie to her. "He's passed out from too much whiskey," he said bluntly. "I don't expect you'll see him until sometime tomorrow."
"Oh," Katie said hollowly, the joy fading from her eyes. Then she forced a smile and went on, "I suppose a man has a right to take a drink when he becomes a father."
White Eagle caught his breath and controlled the anger that threatened to burst from him. If he told Katie about Pierre pulling a gun on them when he and Rose and Flint had tried to come into the house, she would still make excuses for him. She loved him. She might not be blind to his faults, but she wouldn’t condemn him for them.
With a deep sigh he pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down. While they waited for Mrs. Guthrie, he and Katie spoke quietly so they wouldn’t wake the infant. Nevertheless, little Josephine roused from her sleep and let out a tiny squall. Her small, fragile hand reached out blindly, and White Eagle slipped his finger into it. Instinctively, Josephine's fingers closed tightly on his.
"Quite a grip for a new baby," he said with a grin.
"Of course. She's going to be a strong little girl."
A knock sounded on the front door. White Eagle looked at Katie. "That must be the woman Marshal Flint said he would send over, I'll go see." Gently, he disengaged his finger from Josephine's grip and stood up.
At the door was a heavyset woman with brown hair pulled back severely in a bun. But her open, friendly smile softened the stern impression she gave. "Hello. I'm Anna Guthrie," she said warmly. "Marshal Flint and Dr. Keller stopped at my place and said you needed some help with a new baby."
"That's right," White Eagle said, returning her smile. "I'm White Eagle Dandaneau. Come in, I'll take you to Katie and the baby. She's my new sister, you know. Her name is Josephine."
"Yes, I know about you, Mr. Dandaneau." He heard a disapproving note in her voice. "I'm acquainted with your father, too."
White Eagle glanced over his shoulder. "Sounds like you don't care for either one of us."
"I didn't mean it that way," she said, instantly beginning to apologize. "I'm just a little worried about that Indian business everyone in town is talking about."
"I can understand that," White Eagle replied evenly, soothingly. He didn’t want Anna Guthrie to feel uncomfortable.
"And as far as your father goes, Mr. Dandaneau, all I can say is that I know your stepmother fairly well. I like Katie, and I wouldn't want to see her or her baby mistreated."
"Neither would I," he said sincerely.
"Well, then, you and I will get along fine, won't we?"
White Eagle grinned at her again and opened the door of Katie's room.
If he had had any doubts about Mrs. Guthrie's ability to care for Katie and Josephine, they vanished quickly. The older woman, who explained that she had eight children of her own, immediately took charge and shooed White Eagle out of the room.
Grinning and shaking his head at his banishment, he moved down the hall and looked into the parlor to see if his father had passed out there. The parlor was empty, and White Eagle began searching the other rooms. He found Pierre at last in the sewing room, sprawled on the divan. An empty whiskey bottle lay on the floor next to his dangling hand.
White Eagle stood listening to his father's heavy breathing for a long moment. That whiskey-soaked brain had no idea that a little girl had been born, that a new life had begun. And Pierre wouldn’t know it until morning, if he was coherent even then.
A man couldn’t be forced to care about his family, White Eagle thought. Pierre Dandaneau was living proof of that.
White Eagle went to the parlor and sank gratefully into one of the chairs. Wearily he leaned his head against the back of the chair and let his eyes close slowly. I'll just rest for a moment, he thought—
Anna Guthrie nudging his shoulder startled him out of a deep sleep.
"You'd best wake up, Mr. Dandaneau," she said in a low voice. "You'll get quite a crick sleeping in a cha
ir like that."
White Eagle sat up and rubbed his already sore neck. "You're right," he said. "I'd better find a place to stretch out."
"There's no need for you to stay here," Mrs. Guthrie said. "Everything is under control. The baby nursed just fine, and she and Katie are both asleep now. Dr. Keller told me she'd come by first thing in the morning, so you feel free to go whenever you'd like."
White Eagle nodded. "Thanks." He stood up, wondering what he should do next. He could sleep here on the sofa, but he imagined that Emily and Addie had to be wondering where he was by now. They might even be worrying about him. "You're sure everything's fine?" he asked Mrs. Guthrie.
"Everything," she assured him.
He stepped into the foyer. His hat was on the table, placed there when he had first arrived—a lifetime ago, it seemed—and he picked it up. "In that case, I'll go on. If Katie wakes up, tell her that I'll be back tomorrow morning. This morning, really, since it's only a few hours off."
"Sure, I'd be glad to. Good night, Mr. Dandaneau."
He smiled. "Good night, Mrs. Guthrie."
This time as he left Pierre's house he rode at a much slower pace. The night was cool and quiet, the houses he passed, dark and peaceful. A gentle breeze blew from the west. A feeling of deep contentment swept over him, as though for the first time in a long while he could see his life clearly.
He knew he couldn’t remain in Abilene indefinitely, just drifting along and waiting for something to happen. He would stay to help until Katie was on her feet again, but afterward it would be time to leave... for several reasons.
He was tired of the friction between his father and him. If there had ever been any love between them, it was gone now. Pierre had taken care of that. What he felt for Emily Sweeney wasn’t love either and he was becoming increasingly uncomfortable staying at his father's bordello. He would have to end that even before he left Abilene. After he had gotten some sleep, he would say his goodbyes to Emily, Addie, and Julius and start looking for a new place to stay.
Rattler's Law, Volume One Page 92
