A Convenient Wife

by Carolyn Davidson

  “You’re a lady, Ellie.” And as if that were the last word on the subject, Win sat down and reached for her hand. His words of blessing were brief, and they ate with relish.

  Ellie lay awake late into the night, her mind churning with the day’s events. Thoughts of her father saddened her, and yet she sensed that somehow, sometime in the future, they would come to terms. And then she thought of the child who might, even now, be in the cold. Thankful, once again, for her rescue at Win’s hands, her own ordeal put aside, she turned her head to see the shadowy bulk of his body beside her.

  She turned, rolling against him, her arm resting on his waist, inhaling the scent of him. Fresh air and laundry soap, combined with the natural male aroma teased her nostrils and she leaned forward to rest her forehead against his back.

  The baby squirmed, and Ellie bit back a chuckle, aware of the cramped conditions her child was being subjected to. Bad enough that she was all squashed into a little lump inside the confines of her mother’s belly, now she was being squeezed between Win’s backbone and Ellie’s innards. “You poor little tyke,” Ellie whispered. She eased from Win’s body, her hands rubbing the taut skin that covered her swollen abdomen. Her skin itched, yet was sensitive beneath her fingers, and she massaged the reddened marks that marred her flesh.

  Win murmured her name, his voice drowsy, and she lifted a hand to his shoulder and then to his hair. “Go back to sleep,” she whispered, but he only sighed and turned his head to kiss her hand.

  “Did you wake me on purpose?” he asked, reaching a long arm behind him to pat her bottom.

  Her fingers tugged at a lock of his hair and she grumbled, attempting to sound indignant. “Of course not. I was restless and you were handy to lean on.”

  “Handy, am I?” he murmured, stretching to his full length and turning in the cocoon of sheets and quilts to face her. He lifted her to rest on the curve of his shoulder and his hand found a spot on her lower back that needed the firm touch of strong fingers. “Having a hard time sleeping?”

  “Um. A little. I’ve been thinking about things.”

  Win yawned, and inhaled a deep breath. His head dipped and he nuzzled against her cheek. “You wide-awake?”

  She nodded. “The baby’s feeling crowded, I think. She keeps trying to stretch out and something pokes my ribs and makes them ache.”

  His chuckle was muffled against her temple. “She? You’re sure about that?”

  “No. But you know I’d like to have a girl. What do you think? You’re the doctor.”

  “I learned a long time ago not to make predictions I couldn’t back up, honey. If you want a girl so much, I’ll think good thoughts, but there’s no guarantee. We won’t know for sure till she makes an appearance.”

  Ellie nudged his chin with her fist, then spread her fingers against his cheek. “Ruth doesn’t think it’ll be much longer. And I think the baby’s shifted during the past day or so. It feels lower. I can breathe better, but it’s pressing on my innards and I have to…” She halted, unwilling to discuss her major symptom with him.

  “Run to the outhouse?” She felt his chest move, and she knew he’d struggled to keep his laugh silent.

  “You’re not supposed to be amused at my expense,” she said tartly.

  “Sweetheart, your running to the outhouse is natural, just a part of having a baby,” he told her. “And if you’ve really dropped, it won’t be longer than two weeks.” His hand slid around, past her hip to the rise of her belly. “Besides, that’s why we have that chamber pot over in the corner. You don’t need to be running outside.”

  He pushed her to her back and his fingers measured the length and breadth of the burden she carried, his palm massaging the stretch marks she bore. “Might be a bit lower,” he said after a moment. “But I don’t think it’s too low for me to—” His hand moved beneath the curve to rest against the top of her thigh.

  “Ellie? Would you mind if I made love to you? I’ll be careful, sweetheart. I won’t do anything to hurt the baby.” His fingers inched the fabric of her nightgown up the length of her legs and he drew it higher, until his hand met bare skin and the soft thatch of curls he’d uncovered.

  She shivered at his touch, barely suppressing a moan of pleasure. “I’ve missed you there,” she whispered.

  “I’ve missed being there,” he returned, his words soft and coaxing. “Can I take your gown off?” At her nod, he helped her sit upright, and in moments she was wrapped against him, her skin warmed by the brush of masculine flesh, aware of the urgency of his need as his arousal flexed against her belly. He bent to her breast, his mouth gentle, his teeth and tongue careful as he pressed warm kisses across her swollen flesh.

  She felt at once tender, yet aching for the firmer touch he was wont to give, and she wriggled against him. “Please, Win?” His murmur of understanding was immediate, and his mouth opened fully against the crest that firmed and pebbled at the urging of his tongue.

  “We’ll be very, very careful,” he murmured, teasing her puckered flesh, kissing the curve of her breast and across the firm swollen skin of her abdomen. “I don’t want you to move, Ellie. Just be still and let me pleasure you.”

  “I want you, Win.”

  “Not nearly as much as I need you right now,” he said fervently. Rolling her again to her back, he knelt between her legs, drawing her knees up so that her thighs lay across his. “Let me know if you feel too much pressure,” he said, his hands trembling as he fit himself to her body.

  She was totally exposed to him and in the dim light of the moon, she watched as his hands traced the contours of her body. He lavished caresses on each needy part, and she was hard put to lie quietly as he’d instructed, her flesh coming alive at his touch. He was within her, yet not fully a part of her, and she lifted to capture his length.

  “Shh. Don’t move, honey. I don’t want to come near the baby’s head.” And it seemed he could find a measure of satisfaction even in the slow, gentle movements that enticed her. His fingers touched her with tender care and she moaned aloud, her enforced stillness seeming to add substance to the intense pleasure he brought her. Her breathing was shattered by the force of her release and she cried his name aloud.

  His hands found the pillow on either side of her head and he leaned over to suckle at her lips, swallowing the words she spoke between shuddering gasps. Barely increasing his rhythm, he groaned against her face, shivering in the grasp of delight as his seed was spent within her body. Rolling carefully from her, he gathered her in his arms and his mouth sought hers again.

  “Ellie, Ellie.” He whispered her name between deep, gasping breaths, and his hands held her against himself as though he could not bear to be separate from her warmth. “You bring me joy,” he said quietly.

  “I love you, Win.” It was all she could offer, and as she lifted her face to receive his kiss, he smiled, and it was enough.

  “I’d be glad to keep the baby,” Ellie told Kate, cutting short Kate’s efforts to sound her out.

  “He’s got a runny nose,” Kate repeated. “And I don’t want you to get sick again.” She rocked the small bundle in her arms and bit at her lip. “Maybe I’d better ask Win if it’s all right for you to watch him.”

  Ellie grinned, throwing up her hands in surrender. “Go on down the hall to his office if you think there’s going to be a problem. He’s in with a couple of patients this afternoon.”

  Kate headed for the kitchen doorway. “It’s only going to be for three hours or so. I’ll let school out a little early. It looks like more snow, and the children will need to get a head start on it.”

  Ellie smiled as Kate strode down the hall to Win’s office door. Keeping an eye on Tyler would be a pleasure, she’d already decided. She’d have a chance to rock him and practice changing diapers. And since Kate had just nursed him until he spit back the last mouthful, he was pretty certain to be content until her return.

  The meat in the oven was beginning to brown nicely, and Ellie added
water from the iron teakettle, then put the cover back in place. Once it was done, she could hold it on the back of the stove until Win was ready to eat his supper. A kettle of green beans simmered, and fresh bread was covered with a clean dish towel on the buffet.

  Outside the weather was cold, with a strong wind blowing up from the mountains, but her kitchen was cozy and warm, and satisfaction with her lot in life filled her with contentment. Beside the rocking chair Win had brought home only yesterday, she’d tucked her bag of knitting. And deep within its assortment of yarn and needles and the unfinished scarf she was working on for James’s Christmas gift, was a small tablet she’d found in Win’s desk drawer.

  She’d filled several pages with sketches of Win, trying from memory to reproduce his face, and somehow not achieving success. Perhaps later on tonight, if he brought his books into the kitchen to work, she might be able to watch him and draw without his notice. The need to capture his image on paper was causing her to waste more sheets in the tablet than she could spare. Tonight, she’d coax him from his office, and then, in the lamplight, she’d be able to watch him as she drew.

  The scarf would only take another hour or so to complete, and she could place it in her drawer beside the pale-blue shawl she’d made for Kate. To finally have friends in her life was one of the multiple blessings of being Mrs. Winston Gray. And her heart sang as she stood before the stove, deep in thought.

  “Win says it’s all right,” Kate said from behind her. Ellie turned quickly, her mind switching from one thought to another as she focused on the squirming bundle Kate held.

  “Give him to me,” she told Kate, holding out her arms. “I can’t wait to get my hands on him. It’s been forever since I’ve held him.”

  Kate grinned. “I only hope he doesn’t make you wish me home early,” she said. “If he gets hungry before school’s out, give him his sugar teat. I’ve put it in the sack with his diapers. Just dip it in a bit of water and he’ll suck on it.” She looked back, almost reluctantly, Ellie thought, as she donned her coat, then wrapped her scarf over her head and around her neck.

  “It’s getting colder out there. I think it’s good that Tyler doesn’t have to be hauled around in the wind any more today. Oh, and Win said to tell you he’s got enough patients to last the rest of the afternoon. Don’t plan on seeing him till suppertime.” With a last wave, Kate opened the back door, and scooted through, quickly pulling it closed behind her.

  Ellie turned to the rocking chair and settled herself, unwrapping the outer blanket from the baby. His tiny fist flailed at the air, and his mouth puckered as the light made him blink. “I thought you might be asleep,” Ellie crooned, lifting him to kiss the downy head. “You precious child.” Her arms held him against her breast and she rested his slight weight against the rise of her abdomen.

  The baby protested once, a sluggish nudge of knee or foot pressing against Tyler’s backside, and Ellie laughed. “You’d better get along, the two of you. You’re going to be friends, right from the start, if I have anything to say about it.” A lullaby she barely remembered came to mind, and she alternately hummed the tune and sang snatches of the lyrics as she rocked Tyler to sleep.

  It seemed Tyler did not like the wash basket she’d called into use as a bed for him, and Ellie picked him up for the third time, shushing his fretful cries, holding him against her shoulder as she poured water over the potatoes she’d peeled. With one hand, she pushed the kettle to the hottest spot on the stovetop and slapped its lid in place. Surely it was almost time for Kate to be home from school, she thought.

  “Hush, little baby,” she sang, her voice rising, finally gaining his attention. He sniffled, and she snatched her handkerchief from her wrapper pocket to dab at the tiny nostrils. Again, he shrieked, and his face turned crimson with his fury. One small fist batted at her chin, and she paused in her lullaby to laugh aloud at his antics. But not for long.

  He suckled on that same fist for a moment, his mouth working eagerly, and finding no sustenance there, he screamed anew. “The sugar teat,” Ellie exclaimed, frustrated that she had not thought of it earlier.

  Lifting the stack of cloth diapers to the chair, she bent to locate the small pacifier. “Maybe you need changing again,” she told him, muttering the thought aloud. His blanket made a pad atop the table and she placed him there, the sugar teat forgotten for a moment as she stripped him from a wet diaper and reached for a clean one from the sack.

  He kicked and squirmed, wailing mightily, his fists clenched, arms thrashing in the air. The diaper pin between her lips, she brought up the bottom of the triangle to his tummy and matched it with the other two corners. Finally. Carefully, she pressed the heavy pin through the flannel and latched it.

  “There you go, dumplin’,” she told him, bending to brush her lips against his tummy before she pulled his gown down to cover him. The extra small blankets Kate had included to pad his tiny bottom fit between his legs, and Kate looked down. “That doesn’t look very comfortable,” she told him, aware that her voice caught his attention.

  He frowned intently and his face reddened, and then she heard the unmistakable sound of his diaper being filled again. “Oh, Tyler!” She could barely suppress the groan, as he looked up at her with his wise eyes narrowed, and opened his mouth to yawn.

  A hissing from the stove announced that her potatoes had boiled over and she held one hand on the baby’s tummy as she reached to tug the pan from the hot spot. It was a long stretch and she held the very end of the handle between her fingers, giving it a jerk to move it to a cooler place on the surface of the stove. Boiling water ran over the side of the pan, the pungent aroma of potatoes combined with the hot stove lid making her wince.

  Unpinning the diaper, she wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know which smells worse, you or the burned potato water,” she grumbled. “Although I think you win the prize, sweetie.” Both hands filled with dirty diaper, the cloth she used to clean him with and nowhere to deposit either item, she stood erect, her back aching from the strain of bending over the table.

  Her hair had come loose from the braid and curled in the steam from the stove. Tendrils hung against her cheeks, and she blew one from in front of her eyes, and then stood in dismay as Tyler discovered his lungs were in good working order once again.

  “Well, drat,” she muttered, just as the kitchen door opened wide and a woman marched into view.

  “I’d say you’ve let things get out of hand, young woman,” her guest said, peering at Ellie through spectacles that rode the end of her nose.

  Ellie gawked. Torn between depositing the soiled diaper and rag on the floor, and tossing them in the stove, she could only allow her gaze to sweep over the middle-aged woman who faced her. A finely made traveling suit looked to have been tailored by hand, and a dark feather swept elegantly across the top of her hat. With dainty gestures, she tugged her gloves from her hands, working at each finger, while the reticule hanging from her arm swung in rhythm with her movements.

  “I beg your pardon,” Ellie said, her voice rasping. She cleared her throat and tried again. “May I help you? Are you lost?”

  “I don’t believe so. Not if this is the home of Dr. Winston Gray.” She looked around the kitchen and her sniff was audible. “Are you the housekeeper?”

  “No, I’m his wife,” Ellie said sharply. “Who are you?” And at just that moment, Tyler’s naked male apparatus sprayed like a veritable fountain. Ellie dodged, and the woman lifted a diaper from the stack and covered the source with a swift movement. Then she stood erect once more and allowed her eyes to take Ellie’s full measure.

  “I, my good woman,” she said majestically, “am Winston’s mother.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “You’re Win’s mother.” As a statement of fact, it left Ellie feeling less than capable of sounding the least bit intelligent. And when the elegant lady in front of her only nodded her head, then took a long look around the kitchen, Ellie was certain she’d awakened in the middle o
f a bad dream.

  The soiled diaper in her left hand and the equally dirty rag in her right precluded any attempt to shake the woman’s hand in greeting. And the half-naked baby in the middle of the kitchen table needed tending in the very worst way.

  “Well, shoot,” Ellie muttered, and then summoned her most welcoming smile. “Would you mind keeping your eye on Tyler while I get rid of his mess?” Not allowing Mrs. Gray the time to summon up a refusal, Ellie turned away, snatching up a remnant of brown paper, left over from her latest delivery from Tess Dillard. She wrapped the offending diaper and rag, then stashed it next to the back door, where it could be taken outdoors and rinsed in a bucket of water when Kate arrived.

  Shooting a glance at Win’s mother, she turned toward the sink, seeking to hide the hot wash of embarrassment erupting in crimson cheeks and watering eyes. What a way to meet this specimen of Saint Louis society, with the kitchen filled to the ceiling with the stench of scorched potato water and the equally noxious odor of a dirty diaper.

  She scrubbed her hands with a dab of the soap leavings she kept beneath the sink, rinsing well beneath the pump, and then snatched at a handy towel. Her hands still damp, she headed awkwardly toward the table, reaching for the back of a chair to balance herself. Tyler was awake and alert, peering up at Mathilda Gray with his wise gaze focused on her face, his mouth working at one fist, while the other waved energetically in the air.

  “I’ll just put on a clean diaper,” Ellie said, her head bent to conceal the incipient tears she attempted to blink away. Her fingers trembled as she lifted Tyler’s legs and slid a clean flannel beneath his narrow behind. The damp cloth Mrs. Gray had put in place, Ellie used to wipe his round belly and the creases where moisture had accumulated. And then she repeated the diapering process, pinning him neatly inside the last clean triangle Kate had provided for her use.

  “You seem to have had a considerable amount of practice at that,” Mrs. Gray said, her voice suggesting that Ellie might have done at least one thing right during the past few minutes.