Lightning Only Strikes Twice

by Fletcher, Stanalei

  Tears stung Annie’s eyes. “Congratulations, Momma.”

  “My little angel,” Elizabeth murmured, kissing the newborn’s cheek. “You were right, Annie. I have a son.”

  Mavis brushed the back of her hand across her forehead. “The hard part’s over,” she said to Elizabeth. “You can rest now.”

  “Thank you, my dear friends.” Elizabeth’s eyes glistened as she looked at Annie and Mavis. “Thank you so much.”

  Annie had never known this moment of wonder herself, but it was one of the most precious sights she’d ever witnessed. In a small way, she now understood why women endured the hardships of pregnancy and labor to bring another living being into the world. The vision of the Madonna and Child couldn’t be as breathtaking as Elizabeth with her newborn son.

  A sense of rightness settled over Annie. With mother and child together, she’d make sure they were safe. Elizabeth would see her son grow old.

  The baby made odd grunting noises that disrupted the serene moment.

  Annie couldn’t help a laugh of sheer delight.

  “He’s hungry,” Mavis said. “Annie, find another pillow to put under Elizabeth’s head.”

  Mavis helped Elizabeth to a sitting position and Annie slipped the pillow in to prop her up. Then Mavis helped Elizabeth disrobe one side.

  Annie wasn’t certain how Mavis knew the baby was hungry, but as soon as Elizabeth cradled him to her breast, the little mouth latched on.

  Although pale and damp from the exertion, Elizabeth beamed at the other two women while the baby suckled.

  The treasured moment of life begetting life—the most basic nurturing of mankind—stamped an indelible image in Annie’s mind. She watched, mesmerized, unable to look away.

  Gradually, the sounds of Mavis tidying up penetrated Annie’s consciousness. As Mavis left the room with a bundle of soiled towels, Annie picked up the washbasin to bring fresh water from the kitchen.

  “AAAH!”

  Annie was partially through the doorway when Elizabeth cried out.

  She whirled around and saw Elizabeth’s back arch. The new mother’s face contorted as she lifted herself and the infant off the pillows. In the next instant, Elizabeth doubled over.

  “Mavis!” Panic swelled her voice.

  Mavis came running in, a fresh set of bedding in her arms. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know,” Annie said as she put the bowl down. “Elizabeth’s in pain.”

  Mavis hurried to the bed.

  “Why does it hurt so much?” Elizabeth asked.

  “It’s okay,” Mavis assured her. “It’s only the afterbirth.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes were wide. “I don’t remember it feeling like this.”

  “Every time is a little different,” Mavis said calmly. “Let’s get you ready.” She gathered the infant from Elizabeth and handed him to Annie. “Hold the baby for a moment.”

  Mavis removed Elizabeth’s extra pillow and prepared her for the next phase. Then she returned to her position at the foot of the bed.

  “This part won’t be as hard.” Mavis gave a reassuring smile and lifted Elizabeth’s knees.

  Mavis’s smile froze in place as she looked under the sheet.

  “What’s happening?” Elizabeth’s voice was thin and thready.

  Annie glanced up from rocking the baby.

  Elizabeth’s stare locked onto Mavis’ face.

  “My Lord in the heavens!” Mavis gasped.

  “What?” Annie moved to Mavis’s side.

  “There’s too much blood,” Mavis whispered.

  Annie gasped when she saw blood flow onto the bedding, soaking the sheets.

  “I don’t feel right,” Elizabeth huffed through clenched teeth. The skin on her cheeks looked impossibly transparent and bloodless lips had all but disappeared in a painful grimace.

  This wasn’t happening! It wasn’t. Fate had to have sent Annie from the future to prevent this very catastrophe. Otherwise, why was she here?

  “Everything will be all right,” Annie said, hurrying to Elizabeth’s side. “Mavis will take care of you. And the doctor is coming.” She turned to Mavis for confirmation, but the other woman was busy packing towels and linen around Elizabeth.

  With the baby in her arms, Annie could only watch helplessly as the situation spun out of control.

  Elizabeth sighed. “That’s better,” she whispered. “The pain’s getting better.” She closed her eyes. “I feel so tired. I want to rest now.”

  Annie sat beside the new mother. By sheer will alone, she would not allow Elizabeth to give up. Surely, she could do something. She must know something from the future that would save Elizabeth.

  “Stay with me, Elizabeth!” She had to keep the new mother awake. “Look at your son. He’ll need to eat again soon.” She held the infant for Elizabeth to see. “What are you going to name him?”

  Elizabeth slowly opened her eyes. She seemed to take a moment to focus. When she looked at the baby, she smiled weakly. Her voice was barely more than a murmur. “Paul and I decided if we had a boy, we’d call him Richard, in honor of you and your grandfather.”

  Vertigo gripped her so strong, she was glad she was sitting. “Richard.” She always thought her grandfather had been named after his father. Instead, this baby was being named for her grandfather.

  Had she’d changed history by coming to this time or had it all been preordained and was now coming full circle?

  Elizabeth gasped as another spasm of pain gripped her.

  The baby whimpered.

  Elizabeth bit her bottom lip to stop her own cries. She reached out and gently stroked the fine hair on the infant’s head and he quieted. “He looks like Paul, doesn’t he?”

  Annie nodded. “He looks like his mother, too.”

  Mavis came around the bed and bent to whisper in Annie’s ear. “I can’t do any more. I’m going for the doctor. Don’t leave her.”

  Annie spared a glance at Mavis when she rushed from the room then turned her attention back to Elizabeth. She wanted this to be a bad dream. Any moment she would wake up—she’d be at home—not in a time where nothing she did would save her great-great grandmother.

  She and Elizabeth had spent so many days together—they had grown to know and love each other. Annie cherished that bond and wished it would last a lifetime. Yet, in her heart, Annie knew Elizabeth was dying. There was too much blood. If the doctor didn’t hurry, it would be too late.

  Annie was afraid history would run its course. In that moment, she would have willingly given her life to save Elizabeth.

  “I feel so sleepy.” Elizabeth’s hand dropped to the covers.

  Tears traced down Annie’s cheeks as she cradled the baby. “Elizabeth,” she whispered. “Please don’t go.”

  Elizabeth turned her head and stared at the wall behind Annie. The vacant gaze left her eyes, replaced by one of recognition. “Laura…” She smiled and reached out her hand. “My beautiful little girl...”

  The vision was meant only for the young mother, yet she couldn’t help herself from glancing over her shoulder anyway. There was nothing to see.

  “I’ve missed you so…” Elizabeth’s voice was barely audible.

  Annie stared at her great-great grandmother as the life-light faded from her eyes.

  One heartbeat, two...

  Elizabeth closed her eyes and, with a soft sigh, was gone.

  “No.” A sob rose up and escaped. “Oh, please. Dear Lord, no.”

  The baby squirmed and started to whimper.

  She tightened her arms around the small bundle and swiped a tear from her cheek. Cradling the babe in one arm, she stood and crossed to the rocking chair in the corner. Numb with grief and loss, she sank into the seat, unable to drag her gaze from the pale specter of Elizabeth’s face, so serene and peaceful.

  She sensed gossamer whispers between birth and death floating about the room. They were neither comforting nor condemning—simply eternal.

  Reverently,
she closed her eyes and touched her forehead to the babe’s. He fussed for a moment and then settled when she pressed him against her bosom, offering the tip of her pinky for the newborn to suckle.

  How long she sat there, she didn’t know.

  When Mavis finally returned with Paul and the doctor, she felt as though it had been a lifetime.

  Elizabeth’s lifetime.

  ****

  Pastor Thaddeus’s sermon on the hope of life after death offered little comfort while Annie gazed at the pine casket before her.

  Once the services ended, she clutched baby Richard to her chest as she walked with Paul out of the church.

  In the pouring spring rain, she and Paul trudged through the mud as they followed the wagon to the cemetery. A few of the town’s folk returned to their homes, but most trailed behind, supporting Paul and sharing his loss.

  The town had seen its share of burials and memorials over the past few days since the mining disaster. Although still reeling from their own tragedies, almost the entire community turned out for Elizabeth’s funeral.

  At the cemetery, Annie could barely look at the open grave beside the tiny headstone that bore Laura Crawford’s name. The flowers Elizabeth had placed on her daughter’s grave, just last Sunday, still held a bloom. Annie felt her heart shatter.

  She stole a glance at Paul.

  His face could have been carved from granite. He simply stared at his wife’s casket as it was lowered into the cold, wet ground.

  Notably absent was Luke Maxwell. No one had seen him since the day the mine collapsed. The same day he’d chased after the shaman.

  Annie didn’t know what to think. Everyone she’d talked to had no recollection of seeing him at the mine. In the chaos of the rescue, how could anyone be certain?

  She hoped he was with the shaman. She refused to contemplate that he’d been trapped when the mine collapsed a second time burying two of the rescuers.

  No one could be sure if Luke had been among the buried. Since he was missing, his name had been added to the memorial service held for all the miners whose bodies couldn’t be recovered.

  In her heart, she believed Luke was alive. Somewhere, he was learning the secret for them to return to their own time. She had to have faith he would come for her.

  What if he had found the secret? With everything that had happened in the past week, Annie wasn’t sure she wanted to return. She wasn’t sure she could. Paul needed someone to care for the baby. If she left, he’d have no one.

  Mavis had offered herself as a wet nurse, relieving Annie of the worry about the baby’s nutrition. In addition, Dr. Smyth schooled her in a new method of preparing infant’s formula using goat’s milk, water, and honey, he learned from a medical journal the previous year.

  The old-fashioned bottles were dramatically different from the versions Annie had seen in her own time, but Mavis had used them before and made sure Annie knew how to handle the “in-between” feedings.

  Annie did her best, but it was hard. Without Elizabeth’s companionship, the days seemed endless.

  After the graveside service, Paul held his coat over both their heads as they walked back to the house.

  Once inside, he shook off the rain and hung his coat and hat on the peg by the door. For a long moment, he stood in the main room as if he expected to see Elizabeth waiting him.

  Annie wished she had words of comfort. He’d lost so much and she knew there was more trouble ahead. As she opened her mouth to speak, he heaved a great sigh and headed for his room.

  Maybe it was best that he handled his losses in his own way.

  “Would you like some lunch?” Annie called as she set the baby down to shake her damp shawl.

  “Yes. Thank you,” Paul said from the bedroom. “Put it in a pail. I’ve left the mill for too long and I need to get back.”

  Paul was a hard worker and the town thrived on the success of his business. Annie wanted to argue that he needed to rest, but knew he wouldn’t listen.

  She hung up her shawl, gathered the baby, and headed for the kitchen. After fixing Paul’s lunch, she prepared a bottle and sat at the table to feed Richard.

  A moment later, Paul came in, already in his work clothes.

  “Can I hold him for a bit before I go?” he asked.

  “Of course.” She stood for Paul to take her seat. She laid the infant in his arms and handed him the bottle.

  Worn, calloused hands cradled the boy with surprising gentleness. Paul smiled as he looked at his drowsy son. “He has Elizabeth’s nose.”

  Breath strangled in her lungs. Annie couldn’t speak, but Paul didn’t seem to expect an answer. He started to hum an off-key lullaby—the one her grandfather used to sing when she was scared and longing for her parents.

  Tears, long spent, spilled over her cheeks and she quickly turned away. Paul’s strength was unending. She wouldn’t let him see her cry.

  She busied herself packing his lunch in the pail.

  As she turned to place it on the table, he lifted the sleeping baby to his shoulder and tenderly patted his back.

  Paul’s somber brown eyes gazed at her. “You’ve been a big help these past few days,” he said quietly as not to wake the baby. “I don’t know what I would have done, had you not been here.”

  She tried to smile. “Mavis has been the miracle woman. I’m simply following her instructions.”

  “I thank you just the same,” Paul said. He stood and handed the baby to her. “I’d best be getting to work.”

  “Don’t forget your lunch,” she reminded him.

  He grabbed the pail and paused at the back door. “I won’t be too late tonight. I’ll be back early to take care of Richard and give you a break.”

  Annie opened her mouth to argue, but Paul cut her off. “See if you can find out where Luke went.” He closed the door and was gone.

  Hope rose in her chest. Paul didn’t believe Luke was dead either.

  Find out where Luke went.

  The words echoed as she laid Richard down for a nap.

  Annie dragged a chair next to the cradle and absently stroked his fine hair as he slept. She found comfort in touching Elizabeth’s son, holding him eased the unbearable emptiness Elizabeth left behind.

  Much greater was the hole in her heart left by Luke’s absence. She missed him. Missed his laugh. Missed the fire he sent singing through her veins when he touched her. Nothing made her feel as alive as when they were together. Without his daily visits and companionship, she was completely alone.

  What she couldn’t understand was why he hadn’t returned? She initially thought he might have been trapped somewhere by the storm. It had rained non-stop since the night Elizabeth died.

  The storm hampered the clean-up after the mine had collapsed and stranded the help trying to reach White Rock from Boise. Luke could have been cut off too.

  Once the rain had eased, and he still hadn’t returned, doubts crept in. Annie worried he had been buried. Except Paul believed Luke was alive, too. That thought gave her hope.

  The baby suckled in his sleep, bringing a sad smile to her lips. This little guy had nothing but hardship ahead.

  The mine was operational again. Although the collapsed shaft was permanently closed, daily life in White Rock started to return to normal.

  Except, nothing had been normal for Annie since she’d arrived.

  She recalled her first conversation with Luke and had to admit he’d been right all along. Living in White Rock was hard. Broken hearts and lost loves were a part of life. People died.

  She thought of Paul and Elizabeth. Tragedy had struck a devastating blow when their daughter died, yet they’d recovered and tried again, only to lose more.

  Even now, Annie suspected Paul acknowledged his loss much quicker than she ever could. She would never accept that life could be snuffed out in an instant.

  How could she have ever believed the past was better than the present? True, there was simplicity in everyone’s days, but there was
sorrow…too much of it. If living in a simpler time meant tolerating death so matter-of-factly, then she’d rather not be here.

  The baby sighed and squirmed slightly before his breathing evened.

  There was joy, too. Reasons to celebrate and revere life. Baby Richard’s birth proved that life continued on.

  A realization hit her. Without Luke, she didn’t want to stay here any longer. Now, she had no choice. Baby Richard, her great-grandfather, needed her.

  She leaned into the cradle and pressed a soft kiss against his cheek. He didn’t stir and it looked as if he might sleep for more than the hour he’d given her and Mavis between feedings last night. That would be time enough to work in the kitchen.

  She’d fixed the evening meal early. Then she could leave to search for Luke as soon as Paul settled with the baby.

  It was almost dusk when Paul returned. Although the rain had stopped, mud still clung to his boots. He placed them on the back steps and entered the kitchen.

  Annie finished changing the baby and was giving him a bottle as Paul hung up his coat.

  He smiled at them. “I swear he grows an inch every time I see him.” He crossed to the kitchen sink. “He’s big enough to swing a hammer.”

  Annie smiled back as she put the bottle down to burp the baby. “Well, let’s wait at least until tomorrow. He needs a good night’s rest before you put him to work at the mill.”

  Paul finished washing his hands and dried them on a towel. “It’s good to see you smile, Miss Annie.” He took the baby out of her arms and held him close. “Except for this little fella, there ain’t been much to smile ’bout lately.”

  She bit her lip and kept busy laying out a clean nightshirt and diapers. Paul should have everything he’d need until she got back. “It’s been hard the last few days,” she agreed. “Maybe the rain stopping is a sign of better things to come.”

  “Maybe,” Paul said. “But most like, it’s a sign that summer’s gonna get hot before the robins fly south and the season’s gonna end sooner than we’re ready.”

  Annie paused in her task and stared at Paul. Time shimmered to a standstill. The words he’d spoken were ordinary enough, but it was the way he’d said them that shook her to the core.

  Her grandfather used to say something similar when she’d dally and daydream. He hadn’t discouraged her dreams, but had taken great care to ground her in the pragmatic present instead of allowing her to wish her life away.