Fern

by Greenwood, Leigh

  "What's wrong?" she demanded the moment she reached the horse's head. "What are you doing here?"

  "Help me inside," Rose said.

  "I'm taking you back to town immediately."

  "I'll never make it. My labor has already started."

  "Piss and Vinegar!" Fern cursed, forgetting to curb her tongue in front of Rose. "You can't have that baby here. What about a doctor?"

  "You'll have to help me."

  No curse Fern knew was strong enough to express how she felt about that.

  "George will kill us both," Fern said as soon as she had Rose inside and lying down on the bed.

  "Sam Belton is the man who tried to rape you, isn't he?" Rose said.

  Fern froze. "How did you figure that out?"

  "I met him in town this morning. He mentioned your white skin being ruined by the sun."

  "But why did you come out here?"

  "He said he was coming see you about buying your farm. I didn't want you to be surprised and give yourself away."

  "Why didn't you wait until tomorrow? Or even tonight. You could have sent Madison."

  "He's in a hurry to leave town. I was afraid he might come today."

  "It wouldn't have done any harm. He wouldn't have found me here."

  "I couldn't know that."

  "I don't mean to sound angry at you. I'm just worried. I'm going for a doctor."

  "There isn't time," Rose said. "My pains are too close together."

  "I know all about calves, but I don't know a thing about delivering human babies."

  "It's not very different Just do what I tell you."

  Another pain gripped Rose's entire body and Fern blanched.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes," Rose assured her as soon as the contraction passed and she was able to talk again. "Help me undress. And you're going to need all the towels and hot water you can get ready. Some scissors and thread as well. I'm going to make an awful mess."

  Fern didn't know how Rose could be so calm. Even though the contractions came faster and harder, Rose never once cried out. And Fern knew she was in pain. She could see the contractions grip Rose's body, encasing her in a merciless vise which turned her white from pain and weak from exhaustion. It made her ashamed she had accepted Rose's sympathy. Her ribs could never have hurt like this.

  After a particularly rough contraction, Fern could remain silent no longer. "How can you stand it?" she asked, unable to understand why Rose would put herself through such agony.

  "Can you look at William Henry . . . and not want one just like him?" Rose gasped. "That's worth any amount of pain."

  But Fern wasn't sure she agreed. Remembering her own mother, she asked, "Aren't you afraid you might die?"

  "No, but people . . . die from many things out here. I figure having a . . . baby is one of the best."

  Fern hadn't thought about it that way, but even after she did, she wasn't convinced.

  "You're going to . . . have to . . . hold its head," Rose gasped. "Let me . . . know . . . when you . . . see it." Rose's voice was growing weaker. Her words were hard to understand.

  Now that the actual birth was about to begin, Fern felt more confident. She had helped with too many births on the farm not to understand the procedure, but it felt strange to be helping to deliver a child. Somehow it wasn't the same as delivering a calf or a colt.

  "I see its head," Fern said, her excitement beginning to mount. "It's bald."

  Rose's laugh turned into a gasp. She managed to say, "Cradle its head," before another contraction momentarily bereft her of speech. "But ready . . . to catch . . . him . . . as soon . . . as the . . . shoulders emerge."

  Fern felt terrified. No sooner did the head appear than it disappeared again. But another contraction, another push, and the head reemerged. Gingerly Fern supported the baby's head. It didn't move. It didn't squirm or cry. It just lay there waiting to be born.

  It seemed incredible to her that she was holding a new life. This child was related to Madison. It would be related to her when she became his wife.

  This baby was part of her family.

  The thought shocked her so much she was almost unprepared when the baby's shoulders emerged one after the other and the infant slid into her waiting arms.

  "It's a girl," Fern said, in awe of the tiny human that now looked up at her with wide blue eyes. "But she's awfully tiny."

  "I just hope I'm around when . . . you have your . . . first," Rose said when she managed to catch her breath.

  "Madison said I didn't have to have any children if I didn't want to."

  But how could she not want to be part of this magical cycle of life? Only a woman could bring new life into the world. Only a woman could create a new human being where there had been none before. How could she possibly refuse this most precious of gifts?

  "Well I want this baby and many more like her," Rose said, trying to twist her tired body so she could see her child. "Hand her to me."

  Fern lay the baby on Rose's chest until she had cut and tied the umbilical cord and wiped the infant clean.

  The child was small, red, wrinkled, and had very thin blond hair. She didn't make a sound until Rose cleaned out her mouth and sharply flicked the bottom of her feet with her finger. Then she started to scream in earnest.

  "At least I know her lungs are clear," Rose said, smiling proudly. "You're a beautiful baby, aren't you, sugar?" she crooned. "Daddy's going to be so proud when he sees you."

  "I hope he's proud enough to keep from wringing our necks," Fern said. She knew George Randolph well enough to know he was not going to be pleased at his wife's giving birth with only a novice midwife to attend her.

  "What are you going to name her?" Fern asked.

  "I don't know. I can't decide whether to name her after George's sister - she died as an infant - or after his mother. I think I'll let him choose." Rose looked down at her still-swollen body. "I had hoped to be a good deal thinner when this was over. I guess I've been eating too much. Unless I'm to look like an apple dumpling for the rest of my life, I'm going to have to start eating a whole lot less."

  "Let's see about cleaning you up," Fern said. "You don't want your husband seeing you looking like you've been the one that's been swimming around in the afterbirth."

  "You're just full of flattery today aren't you. I know I'm not looking my best just now, but I -- ooowwwwww!"

  Fern had turned away to bring some fresh water when the groan caused her to spin about. "What's wrong?" she asked, petrified something was wrong.

  "I think . . . I'm . . . having . . . twins," Rose managed to gasp.

  Though it was no less brutal than the first, the second labor was much shorter. Minutes later Fern guided a second blond baby girl into the world. Rose could hardly wait until her second daughter lay nestled at her other side.

  "Oh my, George won't believe his eyes," she murmured, beaming despite exhaustion and the perspiration that soaked her body.

  "How are you going to tell them apart?" Fern asked, staring at the two babies held lovingly in Rose's arms.

  "Can't you tell now?" Rose asked, surprised.

  "No. They look just like."

  "I know," Rose said. "George will, too. Tie a piece of ribbon around the ankle of the first one. Before the week's out you'll be able to tell them apart, too."

  Fern doubted it, but she wasn't about to argue with Rose. While the now-slim mother nestled her two babies, Fern began to clean up. Rose had been right. She had made an awful mess.

  An hour later, Fern had cleaned the house, helped Rose bathe and get into one of nightgowns she had given Fern.

  "I'm going to send Reed for the doctor," Fern said.

  "What for?" Rose asked without looking at Fern. She only had eyes for her babies. "We're all doing just fine."

  "Because I want to live long enough to marry Madison. Maybe George won't kill me if the doctor says everything turned out fine. I doubt he'll take my word for it."

  "But I'm the one w
ho drove out here."

  "Do you think that man's going to blame you for anything?" Fern said. "I've never seen anybody as besotted as he is about you."

  "How about Madison?"

  What about Madison? Did he love her any less than George loved his wife? Did she adore him any less than Rose adored George? Much to her great happiness, she realized their love for each other was just as great. She no longer had to be jealous of Rose or to spend hours dreaming of what it might be like to be her. It had happened, and one day people would be gazing at her and Madison the same way she had looked at Rose and George.

  Fern smiled happily. "I think Madison loves me just as much, but he never has any trouble telling me when I do something wrong."

  "Has it stopped him from loving you?"

  "No." And it probably never would. She couldn't imagine him any other way.

  "Then don't worry about it. These Randolphs are stubborn as mules, but once they make up their minds, they're made up forever."

  "I'll remember that, but I'd better get going. It'll take me about half an hour to find Reed. You sure you'll be all right?"

  "I'll be fine," Rose said, crooning to her babies. "I've never been finer in my whole life."

  * * * * *

  The Pinkerton reached the train before it came to a stop.

  "What's wrong?" Madison asked, suddenly fearful. "Has something happened to Fern?"

  "No," the Pinkerton answered, relieving his most immediate worry, "but I just found out Belton was in Abilene eight years ago. He came through twice with shipments going down the military road to the Santa Fe trail. The last trip coincided with the time of the attack on Fern."

  "What attack?" George asked.

  "I'll tell you later," Madison said. "We know who the killer is. As soon as I get Fern somewhere safe, we can close in."

  * * * * *

  "And don't let him tell you she doesn't need him now that she's delivered," Fern instructed Pike. "Doc Grey is the laziest man alive. He'd starve if he wasn't the only doctor in Abilene."

  "What if he won't come?"

  "Hit him over the head and drag him. I'd rather have him mad at me than George."

  "Or Hen," Pike added as he climbed in the saddle. "The Doc don't shoot too straight. Nobody can remember when Hen Randolph missed what he was shooting at."

  * * * * *

  Fern let her horse canter on a loose rein. He knew the way home from the cow camp without her help. It was just as well. Her head was too full to bother with something so trivial as finding her way home.

  She still couldn't get over the birth of Rose's babies. She had known they were coming. Well, she'd known at least one was coming. But nothing had prepared her for seeing Rose lying in that bed, looking down on her newborn daughters as though they were the two most wonderful babies that had ever been born.

  Fern wondered if her mother had felt that way about her. She couldn't help but wonder how she would feel about her own baby. About Madison's son or daughter.

  She supposed it had been that magic, that basic desire to create life that had caused her mother to try to have a second child when she knew she shouldn't.

  She knew Madison wouldn't expect that of her. And she wouldn't expect it of herself, but then she had never wanted to have a houseful of children like Rose. One or two would do. Just thinking about seeing Madison with his own child, being able to hand it to him herself that very first time, made her misty-eyed. Having children was what life was all about, and she wanted to live. She had spent too many years trying to numb herself. Now she wanted to experience it all.

  She didn't want to do it in Boston, the idea still frightened her, but she guessed she could try that, too. She had almost let fear rob her of her entire life. She made a vow never to do that again. No matter what challenges life presented to her, she would not run away again.

  Fern's pony neighed, and she looked up to find herself almost face to face with Sam Belton.

  * * * * *

  "I don't know where she is," Mrs. Abbott said to George, her hysterical sobs making her words nearly unintelligible. "One minute she was sitting on the front porch, the next minute she was gone, vanished into thin air."

  "Well she couldn't have gone far," George said. "Not in her condition."

  "That's what I thought, but she's been gone all day. Surely she would have come back by now."

  William Henry pulled on his father's sleeve. Absent-mindedly, George picked the youngster up and gave him a welcoming kiss, but his eyes never left Mrs. Abbott.

  "Are you certain she didn't say anything about where she was going?"

  "Nothing," Mrs. Abbott moaned. Dramatically putting her hands over her face, she collapsed into a sofa. "I've searched my mind for hours. She didn't say a thing."

  "Maybe she went off with Fern," Madison suggested.

  "Fern's at the farm."

  "Daddy," William Henry whispered in his father's ear.

  "Not now, son," George said. "I've got to find your mother. She shouldn't be away from the house this long."

  "I think we should notify Marshall Hickok," Jeff said.

  "Maybe you ought to check with the doctor first," Hen suggested. "If anything did happen, it's bound to have something to do with the baby. I'll go if you'd like."

  "I'd appreciate it," George said.

  "And I'll go see the marshal," Jeff volunteered.

  "Ask him not to tell anybody," George said. "Rose will kill us if we turn this town upside down only to find she's been next door all afternoon."

  "I've asked at nearly every house in town," Mrs. Abbott moaned. "Nobody's seen her."

  "Daddy," William Henry said again.

  "I don't have time now," George said, setting his son down. "Why don't you go outside and play."

  But William Henry didn't leave. He stood right next to his father.

  "What are we going to do?" Madison asked. "I can't sit still waiting for Jeff and Hen get back. I've got to go see Fern."

  "I don't know what else we can do. We don't know where to look." George ran his hand through his hair. "I don't understand it. It's not like Rose to go off without telling anybody where she's going."

  "I know where she went," William Henry announced.

  "I know you want to help," Mrs. Abbott said giving the little boy a hug, "but you ought to go find Ed and play. Your daddy's very worried about your mommy."

  "Mommy told me where she was going," William Henry said.

  "Now, child, you know it's not nice to tell--"

  "What did your mother say?" George asked.

  "It's a secret. Mommy said not to tell anybody but Daddy."

  "You can tell us," George said. "It's all right."

  William Henry eyed Mrs. Abbott uncertainly.

  "Will you find Ed, Mrs. Abbott?" George asked. "Maybe he knows something as well."

  "I've already asked him if--"

  "I'm sure you have, but it wouldn't hurt to ask him again."

  "If you want," Mrs. Abbott said, clearly unhappy at being sent from the room.

  "Now what did Mommy say?" George asked as soon as the door closed behind Mrs. Abbott.

  William Henry looked about to make sure Mrs. Abbott had really gone.

  "Mommy went to see Fern. She knows who killed the man."

  "What man?" Madison asked, suddenly alert.

  "Mr. Spool," William Henry said.

  "Troy Sproull!" Madison exclaimed. "But how could she have found out?"

  "What else did Mommy say?" George asked his son.

  "To tell Mr. Tom it was a secret."

  "Get the horses saddled as quickly as you can," George said to Madison. "I'll be along as soon as I talk to Mrs. Abbott."

  "Do you think Fern's in danger?"

  "I don't know, but Rose wouldn't have gone to the farm if she hadn't thought so."

  "Get your gun," Madison called over his shoulder as he hurried away. "And bring one for me."

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Questions whipped t
hrough Fern's mind like dry leaves before the wind. What was Sam Belton doing here? Did he know she knew he had tried to rape her, that she believed he had murdered Troy? Did he know Rose was at the house, lying helpless with her babies in her arms? Did he know all the Randolph men were in Topeka and not due back until this evening?

  No matter what she did, Fern realized she must not give herself away, for Rose's sake as much as her own. She didn't know what Belton might do, but the thought that he might somehow harm the twins made her sick to her stomach. Nothing could more surely guarantee that one of the Randolphs would kill him. Fern couldn't stand the thought of being responsible for another Randolph going to jail.

  But Belton probably didn't know that to touch a Randolph was to sign his own death warrant.

  "Mr. Belton, what are you doing so far from town?" She spoke first, hoping her voice didn't betray her trepidation. "I thought you would have gone back to Topeka by now."

  "I had intended to, but I wanted to talk with you about buying your farm."

  "I don't have any plans to sell."

  "This is an awfully big place for one woman to run alone." He waved his hand in a half circle, including more land than Fern owned. "Besides, I heard you're getting married and moving to Boston."

  "I'm not sure about that, either."

  He didn't look like a murderer, or a rapist. He looked like a sober, middle class, hard-working business man. No one would ever believe he had tried to rape her. And with Troy dead, there was no one to support her accusation. They wouldn't believe he had murdered Troy either. She had absolutely no proof. Neither did Madison.

  But she knew he'd done it. She could feel it.

  "If you're not doing anything right now, I'd appreciate your showing me anything you might consider selling."

  Fern started to tell him to come back another day, but what if, in trying to talk her into selling, he followed her home? Rose and her babies lay helpless in the farmhouse. She had to get him as far away as possible. The longer she kept him busy, the closer to the time George and Madison would come looking for Rose. And they would come. They would know Rose wouldn't chance such a trip unless there was grave danger.