Hill Country Courtship (Brides of Simpson Creek Book 8)
Page 13
Then suddenly Maude caught a glimpse of the baby’s buttocks coming, but the contraction didn’t move them farther downward.
Don’t pull, or get in a hurry. Remember the cord. She heard her father’s voice as if he were in the room. It could be caught around something, like the baby’s neck.
The cord that protruded was slack and not pulsating, an ominous sign. Lord, help us! Save this little life! Keeping the fingers of one hand against the part of the cord she could feel, she inserted the other fingers up alongside the cord, feeling along the baby’s buttocks, then chest. She wished praying could give her instantly longer fingers...
Handle the cord as little as possible. You don’t want it to spasm...
There! As Dulcey’s body began to push again, she felt the baby’s neck, and the cord wrapped around it. She inserted a finger under the cord, lifting it away from the neck. It began to pulsate again.
Lord, we can’t accomplish this without Your help. Please aid us quickly.
Dulcey grabbed her free hand then with a strength and fierceness that belied her small size. “I have to push...” she cried, panting.
“Then push, little Dulcey, push, and the Lord will help us,” Maude told her. She was ready, having put a clean cloth underneath the girl’s hips. She held another one to receive the baby.
She could see the baby’s slick, tiny buttocks, protruding a little farther with each breath’s pushing.
An eternity later, the wet, blue-red baby boy slid into the cloth Maude held ready and began to squall in protest at the indignity of his birth.
Maude hadn’t realized she was weeping until she tried to find her voice. “It’s a boy, praise God! A healthy, very angry boy, Dulcey!”
“Gracias, Dios!” Dulcey cried, sagging back on the bed, grinning. “Pedro will be so happy...”
“Yes, thank You, Lord,” Maude murmured, swaddling the baby before handing him into the embrace of his exhausted mother. The delivery wasn’t quite complete yet, so she waited until it was before cutting the cord and wrapping mother and baby against the chill. The angry wails from the newborn had stopped mingling with Hannah’s fretful cries, for Dulcey was already nursing him.
Maude pulled Hannah close to soothe her as much as she could. No sooner had she realized how exhausted and drained she was than a pounding sounded at the door.
Who—? Had the curandera finally come, now that the crisis was over? Unlikely, given what Dulcey had said about the woman’s refusal to travel after dark. Was it the baby’s father? But why would he knock at the door of his own dwelling?
“Maude! Maude Harkey, are you in there?” shouted a very familiar voice.
Maude jumped upright and tottered to her feet, feet that threatened to collapse beneath her, and somehow made her way to the door, carrying Hannah.
When she pulled it open, she was surprised to see it was dawn. A furious-faced Jonas stood there, holding a blazing torch.
“Put that out before you set the house on fire, and stop shouting,” she said, holding a finger to her lips, for Dulcey and the baby were already asleep.
Jonas laid the torch down on the rocky ground where it could do no harm, then rounded on her. “What in the name of— What do you mean, sneaking off like that with a baby, letting no one know where you were, taking your child that needs to be fed? We were frantic by the time the lad reached us and told us where we could find you, woman! Juana is beside herself!” He was shouting so loudly that Maude flinched from him, and baby Hannah began to wail anew in her arms.
“Stop yelling!” she yelled back. “You’re frightening everyone! I had no choice but to stay and help your shepherd’s wife deliver her baby!” She pointed at the screen that stood in front of Dulcinea’s bed. “She would have given birth all alone if I hadn’t stayed, and the baby might well have died—maybe even the mother, too!”
Incredibly, Jonas obeyed her and not only stopped shouting, but turned around and began descending the slope again. Maude thought he must be so angry that he was leaving her there. “Jonas, wait—” she began.
But then she heard him calling down the hillside, “I’ve found her! She’s here!” Then he turned to look back up at her. “I’ve brought Juana in the wagon, so she can feed poor Hannah,” he said, his tone softer, and nodded at the baby who was crying inconsolably in Maude’s arms. Then he was clambering back down the hillside to assist Juana to climb up to where they stood.
Maude caught sight of the little Mexican boy who’d fetched them entering one of the other lean-tos now that his task was done. She hoped he’d try to get word to Pedro about his newborn son after he’d rested.
Maude sagged in relief, the tears flooding down her cheeks again as Juana, helped by Jonas, reached them and, going inside, settled herself down to feed Hannah. While she did so, Maude told them about the difficult birth, and when she was done both Juana and Jonas tiptoed over to take a peek at the new baby.
“Maude, you are a heroine!” Juana proclaimed. “My sister died in childbirth because her baby came the same way, and the baby died, too. How frightened you must have been!”
“You have no idea,” Maude agreed, smiling now. “I just thank God all ended well.”
“Aye, a true heroine,” Jonas said. He had listened quietly, but a warning glint in his eye told her he wasn’t completely done with his anger. Maude felt sure he was just waiting to speak to her privately. She was certainly not looking forward to that conversation, though she was grateful that she didn’t have to bear it just yet. She thought if he spoke sharply to her now she might dissolve into a puddle.
“I suppose we’d better get back to the ranch house,” Jonas said a little later.
“But we can’t leave Dulcey here alone to fend for herself,” Maude protested. New mothers who had had long, difficult births like Dulcinea were especially prone to childbed fever, she knew. “We must take her and the baby back to the ranch house with us,” she told Jonas. “Do you think you could carry her to the wagon?”
She could see he was about to refuse, then, to her relief, Juana chimed in, too. “She’s right, Senor MacLaren. The young mother is much too weak to care for herself and her baby after such an ordeal. She will want her mama—and Senora Morales will want to have her close by, too.”
“But her husband—”
Juana made a dismissive gesture with her hands. “He’s a man. He won’t know what to do. And he is busy minding the sheep, so he would not be home often regardless. Besides, it won’t be for very long.”
Maude could see he was still tempted to refuse, and the thought panicked her. She felt a tear slide down her cheek and impatiently swiped at it, not wanting him to think she was trying to manipulate him through the use of tears that were only escaping because she was so tired. “Please, Jonas, I can’t let another woman die like Hannah’s mother did,” she pleaded, impulsively reaching out a hand to touch his wrist. “In fact I’d like to get the doctor out to check her, but don’t worry, I’ll pay for his visit,” she told him.
He looked deeply into her eyes then. “All right, Maude. It seems I can refuse you nothing. On your head be it when my mother learns what we’ve done.”
“Your mother would be the first to want to help a young mother and her ‘wee bairn’ as she’d call it,” Maude insisted, relieved.
“You are a good man, Senor MacLaren,” Juana told him, her eyes shining.
“Occasionally,” he agreed.
Chapter Eleven
As her son had predicted, Coira MacLaren was not pleased when she learned that a Mexican peasant girl and yet another crying baby had taken up occupancy under the MacLaren roof.
“I don’t recall being consulted about my own household being transformed into bedlam,” she raged, when Hannah and the newborn boy began wailing simultaneously on their arrival back at the ranch. “I won’t have it!”
Coira turned to Maude, whom Jonas had just helped to descend from the wagon, Maude’s limbs having turned to jelly from exhaustion. “And ye, ye irresponsible slip of a girl, to go waltzing off into the hills without a thought for the needs of yer own babe,” she said, gesturing toward Hannah, who had ceased crying and was now rubbing her eyes sleepily. “The poor wee thing must have come close to starving while you tended this—this peasant girl! And then there’s my own needs that you were hired to see to, and have woefully neglected today.”
“I agree, I should not have taken Hannah with me,” Maude admitted. “And I apologize for being gone so long. But we were just taking advantage of the nice weather and had not intended to be absent for more than an hour or so. I’m sorry, Mrs. MacLaren,” she said, knowing she was blessed that everything had turned out as well as it had. “It won’t happen again. And Dulcinea and the baby will just be here until I am certain she has recovered from the childbirth. After such a difficult delivery, I couldn’t leave her up there alone,” she said, jerking her head back in the direction of the hillside hut.
“It better not happen again,” the older woman snapped. “Well, I suppose ye’d best be about readying a guest room for yet another noisy guest.”
“They can use the east room, Mrs. MacLaren,” Senora Morales said, still moving gingerly because of the healing burns. “It’s made up and ready. Ah, my grandson, what a darling little one!” she exclaimed, peering over the wagon bed where Dulcinea still rested in a nest of blankets with her newborn. “I’ll have Hector send word to your husband that you’re here, Dulcinea. Then he will be here fast as the wind to see his hijo!” She chuckled as she took charge. “You look about to collapse, Senorita Maude. To bed with you!”
Since Senora Morales was taking charge of her daughter and new grandson, Maude gladly obeyed the command from the housekeeper to seek her bed, knowing Juana would watch over Hannah.
Jonas touched her shoulder lightly as she started to walk toward the house. “We’ll speak when you’ve rested,” Jonas said.
Was that a threat or a promise? Maude wondered, but she was too tired to worry about it. She used what remained of her energy to climb the stairs to the room she shared with Juana.
Exhausted, she slept straight through dinner and supper and didn’t wake until Senora Morales brought a plate of sliced beef and soup to the room.
“Senor MacLaren said he’d be waiting for you in his study, but that you were to take your time and eat first,” the housekeeper said after Maude had sat up at the side of the bed.
A shiver of apprehension slid icily down Maude’s spine, but the beef smelled too good to let fear ruin her appetite. She ate as if she hadn’t seen food for a week, then put on a fresh dress and descended to the study, wondering what the man would say.
* * *
While he waited for her, Jonas pored over the account book, but as soon as he heard her soft footsteps in the hall, he dropped the pretense that he was doing anything more than killing time till she arrived.
She’d changed out of the rumpled, stained clothing she’d come back to the ranch in and was now wearing a dress of some soft rust-colored fabric with black trim that went well with her red hair and turned her eyes a more vivid blue.
What a beauty she was, he thought. “Ah, there you are, Miss Maude,” he said. “Did you have a good rest? Get enough to eat?”
She blinked as if the kindness of his tone surprised her. “Yes, Mr. MacLaren, thank you,” she said. “Again, I want to apologize for worrying and inconveniencing you and your mother by my actions. I really did not see that I had a choice. But I’ll understand if you’ve decided I cannot be trusted to work here anymore.”
“Miss Maude, what kind of self-centered tyrant do you take me for?” he asked her, a little indignantly. “Indeed you did not have a choice,” he said, and met her gaze with his. “No decent person could have left that girl alone under the circumstances, especially when you knew that you were the best suited for the task of helping her bring her baby into the world. But I need to let you know that my primary concern when you went missing was not any inconvenience to myself or my mother—and yes, I’m aware that my mother made it sound as if that was her sole concern,” he added, when she merely raised an eyebrow and continued to study him. “But it wasn’t mine.”
He took a deep breath, knowing what he was risking but knowing he’d gain nothing without taking a chance. “Ah, Maude, don’t you see? I’m starting to care about you—very much. It’s not a feeling I recognize easily, or am very comfortable feeling. I know what I said at the barbecue makes it sound as if I’m a crusty confirmed bachelor, but I care about you. And because I care, I was worried about your safety.”
Her jaw dropped, and she stared at him, eyes wide as English pennies. “You care. About me. The man who said seeking love was nothing more than claptrap.”
“Go ahead, laugh if ye want,” he told her. “I reckon I’ve earned it. I’ve said many foolish things over the course of my life. Surely you won’t hold that particular thing against me forever? Aye, I care about you. I’ve seen what a fearless and brave lassie ye are, and skillful as well as kind and gentle. I find myself wanting to be around you more and more.”
Maude closed her mouth, but kept staring, as if she thought any moment now the cynical Jonas MacLaren would reappear and make fun of her for her gullibility. “Mr. MacLaren—” she began.
“Do you think you might call me Jonas?” he dared to ask. “At least when ’tis just us?”
Her eyes bore a guarded glint now. “I’ll call you Jonas if you wish,” she said, in that delicious Texas drawl that made everything she said land pleasantly on his ears—even what she said afterward. “But, Jonas, what do I know about you, really? You’re a man of secrets—you keep more than you give up. How am I to trust you?”
He saw it as she must see it—he was asking her to trust him without any basis, without any transparency on his part. His cryptic announcement the first night Maude was here, about his mother being willing to kill to protect her child, hadn’t helped, especially when he’d refused to give her any explanation afterward.
“Trust doesn’t come easily for a MacLaren,” he said. “Not after what we’ve been through.”
“Without trust there can be no honest caring,” she told him. “If you don’t trust me enough to show me your true self, how can I know who I’m caring for in return?”
The idea that some part of her, at least, wanted to care in return gladdened his heart, if only for a moment. But how could he bare his soul to her, knowing that if she knew everything she’d whirl away from him in horror and disgust?
He cleared his throat, which suddenly felt thick with emotion. “I...I’ll think about what you’ve said, Miss Maude. Will you give me some time?”
“Time?” She looked confused—or was she wary, wondering if he was trying to distract her from her quest for the truth?
“Aye, time. Time to show you who I am, time to get to know you, to trust you, too?”
She studied him, her clear blue eyes penetrating to his soul. “Yes, Jonas.”
He was so pleased—and relieved—he wanted to kiss her right then, but knew it was too soon. She’d run screaming from the house and take Juana and Hannah with her.
“I’ll make sure you’re not sorry,” he told her. Should he sit down with her now, and try to begin telling her about his past? Not yet. He had to think about how to do that. “And now,” he said, “but only if you’re not too tired, my mother was wondering if you would you have a few minutes to read to her before she sleeps? She’s been missing her daily dose of Ivanhoe.”
She smiled and said, “Of course. I’ll go right to her.”
* * *
Figuring Coira MacLaren wouldn’t mind if she
was five minutes later, Maude checked on Dulcey and the baby. She was pleased to find the girl lying in bed, smiling down at her sleeping baby, and relieved when she placed a hand gently on Dulcey’s brow and felt only a normal amount of warmth, rather than feverishly hot skin. No sign of childbed fever after the difficult birth—at least, not yet. Thank You, Lord.
“How is your little son?” she asked the new mother. “Is he still nursing well?”
Dulcey nodded with enthusiasm. “Sí. I have decided to name him Pedrito—little Pedro—after his father. I can’t wait for him to see his son.”
“I’m sure he will think him the finest baby boy ever born in San Saba County,” Maude agreed. “Did you know where my room is, just down the hall? Please let me know if you need anything during the night.”
Then she went to Coira’s room. The old woman smiled as she entered. “All recovered from your adventure, Maude?” She held out the leather-bound volume of Ivanhoe. “Please read me a chapter—I can’t wait to see if Ivanhoe marries Rebecca or Rowena, can you?”
Maude was happy to lose herself in the compelling story—anything to keep from obsessing about how her relationship with Jonas might change after their talk earlier. After reading for an hour, Maude finally bade the woman good-night and was free to go to her room. She expected to find Juana already sleeping, but although Hannah was snoozing away, safely tucked in her cradle, Juana was sitting up in the bed, a shawl around her shoulders. Maude was glad to have a chance to talk with her friend.
“I want to apologize again for worrying you so by taking Hannah with me and staying gone so long. Does she seem all right?” she asked, glancing once again at her sleeping daughter.
“She seems none the worse for wear,” Juana said, her face serene. “But you look like there is something on your mind—something pleasant,” she added with a wink. “Your talk with Senor MacLaren went well? He is no longer angry with you?”