Her lips parted and a surprised burst of air escaped.
“The pain is right about here?” he asked.
She nodded, and then surprised him when she allowed her head to fall forward, her forehead resting against his chest as he moved his hands slightly. His thumbs pressed against muscles much abused as she carried the baby’s weight inside her.
She sighed again, her breath hot against his chest through his shirt.
They stood like that for several moments. He was thankful for the time just holding her close. She relaxed against him, let him take more of her weight. Her belly pressed against his stomach and a sudden thump through his shirt had him holding his breath.
The baby had kicked, and he’d felt it.
Rose tensed in his arms, just slightly, but he just kept massaging her lower back. He ducked his head so his mouth was close to her ear and murmured, “I think she must be as ornery as her mama.”
Her head shifted slightly, the fine hairs at her temple catching in the rasp of his morning scruff. “And what if the baby is a boy?”
“Then he’ll probably be as ornery as his pa.”
The words escaped before he’d really thought about them. He’d meant the baby could be as ornery as himself, but what if she’d thought he meant Jamie? The instant he’d spoken, she tensed up.
And then the barn door burst open with a cold breeze, heralded by a shout from a young voice. “They’re here!”
Jonas’s oldest biological son, Walt, ran into the barn, Ida on his heels.
Rose pulled away from Davy, reaching up to straighten her hair. Her face had gone white, and he watched to see if she would wobble on her feet.
“What’re you two doing?” Walt asked.
“They’re kissing!” Ida screeched, her obvious distaste for the act making her voice ring out loud enough that Rose’s horse neighed and bobbed its head.
“Shush, Ida. You’re scaring the horses,” Walt said. And then he gave his sister a push that almost knocked her off her feet.
“Hey!” she cried out, rushing at him with her arms outstretched as if she would knock him to the floor.
Davy stepped between them, putting one hand to each of their shoulders. “Stop,” he said loudly, as calmly as he could manage. Both children froze.
“Is this how you act on Christmas?” he asked.
Rose looked at him over the tops of their heads, her eyes wide.
“Sorry, Davy. Sorry, Rose.” Their voices came almost in tandem.
“Ever’body’s waiting up at the house,” Walt said, his voice much subdued.
“You wanna help me?” Davy asked his brother. “I’ll unsaddle the horses and you rub them down. It’ll go quicker that way.”
“All right.”
“Rose, come up to the house with me,” Ida begged, tugging on Rose’s hand.
Rose threw a last, long look over her shoulder but allowed the girl to tug her away.
* * *
Rose followed Ida across the yard, trailing the running girl. Her heart still pounded from being caught in Davy’s embrace, though there had been nothing inappropriate in him holding her.
Her back ached even after his tender massage. And her head pounded as she tried to figure out what he’d meant about the baby’s papa. Had he meant the baby would be like Jamie had been? Or had he meant himself?
She saw the way he acted with his siblings. He’d handled their shouting and fighting with a calm manner that indicated he’d done it many times.
She had no doubt he would be good with the baby.
But what if the baby messed up his carefully laid plans for the winter herd? Would he be patient? Or would the anger she’d been expecting all this time finally surface?
Before she was ready to face Davy’s family, Ida ran up the back porch steps and banged in the kitchen door, shouting the news that Davy and Rose had arrived.
Everyone was gathered on the couch and a long bench from the dining table that had been carried into the room. Sarah’s children sat on the floor before the fire, along with Breanna, who had Andrew on her lap.
Penny rose from her seat on the sofa. “Rose, welcome.” She came forward and engulfed Rose in an embrace.
It was uncomfortable. What should Rose say?
“Thank you for having us.”
Penny’s brow was slightly furrowed as she moved away. “Of course. You’re family.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. This was the woman who had told Davy not to marry her.
“Davy and Walt are stabling the horses,” she said softly. “I’ve brought some desserts.” She looked over her shoulder. “I’m sure Davy will bring them in.”
Jonas was noticeably absent. Breanna drew Rose into the parlor, whispering that Maxwell had received a phone call in town yesterday from Ricky, who had needed desperate help, and Jonas had gone even though it was Christmas.
Matty and Oscar stood in one corner of the room in conversation, and their voices at least covered the loud beat of her heart. She hoped.
“How are you feeling?” asked Sarah, joining them.
“Tired and achy,” Rose replied, thankful for the other woman’s presence. “Ready to meet this baby. Thank you—” she included both Penny and Sarah in her gaze “—for the baby things you sent.”
Davy and Walt bustled in the back door laughing together.
Davy’s gaze connected with hers across the room, and she flushed. She would remember forever the tender way he’d held her in the barn just minutes ago.
“So things are going well with Davy?” Sarah asked in a whisper, breaking Rose’s concentration and drawing her gaze away from the man.
It was a blessing that Penny had gone to greet her son with a hug.
“We’re still learning about each other,” Rose responded to Sarah, her voice a whisper, too.
Sarah chuckled. “That doesn’t change, even when you’ve been married for several years.”
Rose was grateful when Davy came to her side and linked his arm around her waist. “Why don’t you sit down?” her husband asked. “You’ve been up on that horse for hours.”
She let him lead her to the sofa. After he tucked a bulky, misshapen burlap sack beneath a decorated fir tree in one corner of the room, he sat on the floor with his shoulder pressed against her skirts.
“Presents! Presents!” Walt and Ida called out.
Sarah’s toddler son banged both fists on the floor, eager to join his older aunt and uncle.
Penny and Oscar laughed, and even Rose couldn’t keep a straight face when Matty and Seb joined in the chant.
The next hours passed in a blur of wrapping flying overhead, laughter and Davy’s solid presence at her side. He brought her a plate of food when the family tussled and shouldered each other out of the way over the meal. She’d used some strawberry preserves to make a pie, and every person who tried it raved over it.
At one point Breanna whispered that she’d snuck out to the barn and had put several jars of canned peaches into the horse’s saddlebags.
The pain in Rose’s lower back remained, constant but not bad, just uncomfortable.
But over everything else, she felt...accepted. They treated her as their sister and daughter, even though she wasn’t related to the family except through her connection with Davy.
She couldn’t reconcile it. And carrying the baby fatigued her. She was warm and sleepy when Davy suggested they head back to the cabin.
Somehow, he’d managed to acquire a sleigh. Instead of riding horseback through the twilit evening, he helped her snuggle in beside him beneath a blanket as the sleigh swish-swished through the snow.
She woke abruptly to two things. One was Davy reining in the horses, the shifting of his arms and shoulder jostling her.
&nbs
p; And a terrible pain ripping through her body.
Chapter Nineteen
Davy startled when Rose bolted upright in the sleigh and screamed. He dropped the reins, turned to clutch her shoulders.
“What is it?”
Her scream died away, and she said rigid, panting. “Th-the baby,” she said through clenched teeth.
The baby. It was coming now?
He should’ve insisted they stay the night at his parents’ house. It was late already, the moon shining down and illuminating the snowy landscape around the cabin. Breanna had promised to visit sometime over the next days, but now there was no one except the two of them.
“Can you walk?” he asked, edging out of the sleigh.
She didn’t answer, but pointed her booted toe out the side. When she’d gotten both feet on the ground, she lurched, and he let his arm come around her waist.
“I’ve got you.”
She was trembling all over as he helped her traverse the yard to get inside. He helped her take off her coat and hung it on the peg.
“Can you change into your nightgown?” he asked, as he moved back toward the door. “I’ll stable the horses real quick—”
She froze, standing beside the table and clinging to one of the chair’s backs with a white-knuckled grip. It was obvious by her rigid stance and the press of her opposite hand against her belly that another pain had taken her.
The horses would have to wait.
He rushed to her side and she straightened a little, letting go of the chair’s back.
Her eyes were wide and scared as she looked at him. “There’s...something wet on my legs.” She sounded like she was about to cry.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, trying to comfort her without causing any additional pain.
“It’s okay,” he whispered into her hair.
Her lip trembled, and it was obvious she was trying to hold herself together.
He brushed a soft kiss against her forehead. “You’re gonna get through this. I’m going to help you.”
Then her hand was knocking against his chest, her fist tight, though he didn’t think she was in the midst of pain. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she murmured.
“I don’t think you’ve got a choice,” he replied, trying to find a gentle, warm smile. “Let’s get you into bed and as comfortable as you can be before I’ve got to take care of the horses.”
He helped her into her nightgown, holding her upright when another pain took her. Her legs were shaking so badly he thought she would’ve fallen otherwise.
He felt sweat beading on his brow, and he was glad he’d taken the time to talk to Maxwell this afternoon. Maxwell had told him what to expect, told him what he should do, but his brother hadn’t told him how he could best comfort Rose.
He tucked her under the covers for the time being, brought her a cup of water and ran outside to get the horses in the lean-to. They would be fine without the oats they were accustomed to; they had plenty of water and he would finish caring for them after Rose birthed her baby.
Soft snow was falling and dusted his head and shoulders with fluffy flakes as he ran back to the house. This time he shed his coat and hat and even his boots before putting some pots of water on the stove to boil.
All the while Rose lay in the bed red-faced, her hair matted with sweat at her temples, her teeth clenched in obvious pain.
He knelt at her side, his knees on the hard plank floor, and brushed her hair off her forehead as the pain faded from her face.
“How...h-how much longer?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” He wanted to reassure her, but Maxwell had said it could take hours and he wouldn’t lie to her.
Her eyes glazed with tears. “I don’t know if I can take hours more of this pain.”
He wanted to remind her of what was coming and smiled a soft smile. “I don’t know about you, but I’m itching to meet this baby boy or girl of yours.”
His words made tears spill over her cheeks and he instantly wondered if that had been the wrong thing to say.
“Do you want some more water?” he asked. Maxwell had told him not to give her anything while she was in the midst of the pain, but surely a little water wouldn’t hurt.
“No,” she whispered. “My stomach feels like I won’t be able to keep it down.”
Another pain took her, and she squeezed her eyes closed as tears tracked down her cheeks. Her lips pinched together, and he wasn’t sure if she was drawing breath.
“Breathe,” he said, smoothing her hair away from her forehead again. “You’ve got to breathe, sweetheart.”
She moaned as the pain seemed to ease a bit.
“Maxwell told me it would be good if you could get up and walk the floor a little bit. Do you want to try that?”
She shook her head. Her hair brushed against the pillowcase. “I don’t think I can—” Her words cut off as another pain convulsed her body.
It had only been a few seconds since the previous pain. It seemed too fast.
And then she screamed, the sound piercing his very soul.
* * *
The next hours passed in a blur of pain and tears.
Rose felt wave of pain after pain. She tried to be brave, but she was only scared.
Was she going to die? She didn’t know.
Davy’s steady presence was like a rock beside the roaring river of wave after wave of pain, but he didn’t understand that she felt like she was being ripped in two.
Finally, when it seemed that she could bear no more, when the sheets had been soaked with her sweat and the pillow was wet from her tears, he reached through the pain and clasped both his hands around hers.
“Rose. Rosie,” he said. “Look at me.”
She pried open her eyes and couldn’t help tears from falling.
He sat right next to the bed, as close as she could bear to have him.
“I think you’re almost there,” he said.
She whimpered. She couldn’t even find words. She didn’t know if she had strength left inside her to bring this baby in the world. She felt so weak, so helpless...
Rose looked at the man she loved even though she didn’t want the emotion. The man who would be the father of the baby that she birthed tonight.
Through the film of her tears she saw his steady presence, those beloved red curls, blue eyes that always looked at her with calm warmth inside them, never narrowed in displeasure.
Davy was a trustworthy man. He deserved her trust and at this moment she had no other choice but to place that trust in him.
“I trust you,” she whispered, because she couldn’t say I love you.
He brushed a gentle kiss against her forehead, pressed his jaw there for a moment, showing her the depth of feelings that neither of them had acknowledged verbally.
“Then let’s bring this little one into the world. I can’t wait to meet her.”
And then the pain came again, changing this time as the baby shifted strongly, falling low in her abdomen.
The pressure changed, built low in her core until she was crying out with it.
“Does your body feel like it’s time to push?” Davy asked, his voice carrying a new urgency.
“I don’t know,” she said through renewed tears. Her back arched off the bed. “Maybe—maybe...yes!” she gasped as another pain hit right on the heels of the one before.
Davy helped her roll to her left side and draw both her knees up toward her chest. He helped her get her hands around them. Holding the bent position was painful, but the pressure didn’t ease. Davy drew her night gown back and moved to the foot of the bed.
He put one hand over hers on her knee, still comforting her even in this moment.
“Next time you f
eel one of those pains, I want you to push as hard as you can,” he said.
She did.
Screaming in agony, her body seemed to stretch or maybe contract as the pressure built to an even higher peak than before.
Another pain.
Another squeeze from Davy’s hand, right there with her.
One last push...a rush of moisture and the horrible pressure eased at long last. She looked down the length of the bed through the tears in her eyes and saw Davy wrapping a small body in the blanket he must’ve laid out earlier.
“It’s a little girl,” he said. He looked up and met her gaze, and tears had spilled from his eyes, too.
Her stoic, calm-natured husband was weeping over the tiny baby in his arms.
He stood up and she could see that he was shaking almost as much as she was. He placed the tiny bundle in her arms and she met her daughter for the first time. The baby’s face was streaked with fluid and Rose used the corner of the blanket to wipe it away. The tiny face was mottled red and scrunched up as if upset that she’d been thrust into the world in such a fashion.
And then her daughter opened her dark blue eyes and looked right at Rose. And Rose felt the bottom of her heart drop out.
Chapter Twenty
Davy bathed the baby first, following the instructions Maxwell had given him. Then he helped Rose wash off and had her sit in the rocking chair his ma had sent back with them for a Christmas gift, so he could change out the sheets on the bed.
“I’ll bring in your Christmas gift from me next,” he said.
“Another gift?” She voiced the quiet question but couldn’t seem to look away from the baby in her arms.
“It’s a cradle for her.”
“Oh.” He knew the soft wonder in Rose’s voice wasn’t about his gift, but about the miracle she held wrapped in a soft blanket.
“What are you going to name her?” he asked, settling in behind Rose for a moment to watch. The baby seemed dazzled by the lamp flickering on the table behind her mother’s shoulder.
Her Convenient Cowboy Page 20
