A Midwife Crisis

by Lisa Cooke

  “I was wondering,” Katie said as she cleared the table after breakfast, “if you’d mind if I went to Rebecca Fisher’s today. Their barn got blown over in a twister this spring and there’s a barn raising going on to help them out.”

  “Of course.” John paused in obvious confusion before he asked, “What’s a ‘barn raising’?”

  She guessed they didn’t raise too many barns in New York City. “Paul’s lumber just came back from the sawmill and as many men as can are coming to get the barn under roof. The womenfolk help with feeding them. There’s supposed to be a pig roast this evening and maybe some square dancing if they can get it under roof by then.”

  “When do you need to leave?”

  “As soon as I get breakfast cleaned up. I fixed some extra bacon for your lunch. I’ll leave it in the icebox.”

  He nodded, but Katie could tell another question was on its way. “Do you think they’d want my help?”

  She glanced at his suit trousers and crisp white shirt before giving what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’m sure they would.”

  He looked down at his clothes, then said, “I’ll be right back.” He didn’t wait for her response before he headed out the front door.

  Assuming he simply had an errand to run, she washed the dishes while Julia dried and chatted about the new kitty she wanted. “I want one with black and white and yellow and gray spots.”

  “How about blue?”

  Julia wrinkled her brow. “Do they make blue kitties?”

  “I don’t know, but wishes are free so you might as well throw them around as much as you want.”

  Julia giggled. “In that case, I want a blue and purple and green kitty.”

  “With wings?”

  That suggestion sent Julia into a spasm of giggles that continued while Katie heard the front door open and John rush up the stairs. In a few moments, her curiosity over John’s unusual behavior was satisfied. He walked into the kitchen in a new pair of canvas work pants and a blue chambray shirt.

  His excitement was palpable. “Ready?”

  “Yes,” Katie said, wondering if he had any idea what he was in for. “Let me get Julia’s coat.”

  John hurried on to the wagon while Katie collected the things they’d need for the day. She handed John the basket of plates, glasses, and silverware to set in the back, not failing to notice the new hammer and saw on the floorboards beside his medical bag.

  “I didn’t know if there’d be enough tools,” he said, setting her basket down and helping her up to the bench.

  She covered the hard wooden seat with a folded quilt and reached for Julia, all the while fighting to control her grin. She hoped John’s excitement held out at least until lunchtime.

  The bustle of activity at Fishers’ farm only escalated John’s enthusiasm. It looked as though half the men in the county had shown up, all laughing and teasing one another as they carried lumber and raised walls. John grabbed his shiny new tools and headed toward the men, while Katie and Julia made way to the women sitting under the old shed roof near the new construction.

  “Mornin’, Katie.” Rebecca sat in a rocker under the roof, her new baby sleeping in her arms.

  “You’re looking good, Rebecca. How’s the little one?”

  “We’re both good thanks to you and the doc.” She held the baby up for Katie to take. “Want to hold her?”

  There was nothing Katie wanted more, with the exception of holding one of her own. She reached for the little bundle, as the women sitting on the bench beside Rebecca scooted to allow room.

  Katie tucked down the blanket to look in awe at the tiny face, puckered in sleep.

  “You need you one of them, Katie,” Eunice Kopp said as she waddled over to stir one of the two bean pots simmering over a low-burning fire.

  The other ladies giggled, and Katie flushed. “I think I ought to get a husband first.”

  Eunice returned to her seat with a huff and nodded toward the barn. “You won’t find a finer one than that.”

  Katie tore her eyes away from the baby to look in the direction Eunice had indicated. Randy was lifting a beam over his head to the men working above him. He’d removed his shirt, leaving on only his undershirt despite the still cool air. His muscles bulged with the weight of his task and several of the younger girls giggled in agreement with Eunice’s statement.

  “Mornin’, Katie,” Randy yelled as though he knew she’d been watching.

  “Mornin’, Randy,” she answered. Then he grinned and she felt her cheeks heat. He finished shoving the beam up to the men before he flexed his arm muscle for her and winked.

  She could have died. Probably would have in fact if the bundle in her arms hadn’t picked that exact moment to wiggle and give the most adorable coo Katie had ever heard. Evidently Randy’s appeal had no age limit.

  Katie smiled at Rebecca. “Have you named her yet?”

  “We have and if you ain’t got no objections, we’d like to call her Katie Joanne, after you and the doc. If it hadn’t been for you two, I don’t think I’d have made it.”

  “Joanne?”

  Rebecca grinned. “It’s as close to John as I could think of without sounding like a boy’s name. Do you think it’s all right?”

  Fighting back the tears, Katie looked down at her tiny namesake. “I think it’s perfect.”

  About that time, little Miss Perfect decided she wasn’t going to take all this attention lying down, and she let out a bawl that shook the shed roof. A chorus of cooing women responded, but Rebecca won out, taking baby Katie into her arms. “I think it’s time for breakfast,” she said, heading toward the cabin.

  Several of the women went with her to start fixing corn bread for lunch, leaving Katie behind to watch the beans. She really wanted to watch John. She couldn’t help noticing Randy was giving John a hard time, teasing him about his shiny hammer and asking every whipstitch if he needed to rest. But John didn’t give in. If anything he worked harder than most of the men and by lunch, it was starting to show.

  As soon as the women had the food ready, she filled a plate and went in search of him. She found him standing by the creek, hands on hips, sweat dripping from his brow. The sleeve of his new shirt had a tear, and his canvas pants were stained and soiled from top to bottom. He was staring off at nothing in particular, and she figured the only reason he was still standing up was that it would take too much energy to sit down.

  “Would you like something to eat?”

  He lifted his gaze from the ground and gave her a nod. Just one, but she suspected that was all he had left. Leading him to a fallen log by the creek, she took a seat, making sure to leave him the seat in front of a tree he could lean against. He did and it was a good two minutes before he finally reached for his plate.

  “You know you don’t have to stay all day if you don’t want to,” she said, taking a bite of beans.

  His fork stopped halfway to his mouth as he turned to face her. “You don’t think I can work like the rest of the men?”

  “They were raised working like this. Were you?”

  Not only was he not raised working like this, but he hadn’t been aware that other people were. At least not since the Egyptians built the pyramids, but he wasn’t about to admit that to Katie. Every limb of his body weighed five tons, and the damn fork weighed at least thirty and that was without the beans.

  But he wasn’t about to admit that to Katie either, so he straightened his back—which hurt—and dug into the godforsaken beans.

  “I can work as hard as any man,” he said, wondering if he could talk her into chewing his lunch for him.

  “I’m not saying you can’t work hard. It’s just that—”

  “I’m fine.”

  And after lunch and its hour of rest, he was finer than he’d been earlier, finer and infinitely smarter. He worked slower and steadier through the rest of the afternoon, stopping periodically to bandage an injury. Most of which seemed to belong to Freddie. With a smashed
thumb, torn nail, and a splinter the size of an oak tree, Freddie spent more time getting wrapped up than nailing boards.

  The worst of his injuries, however, occurred when he managed to catch a board on the edge of the barn, bending one of his few unbandaged fingers backward.

  “Do you think it’s broke, Doc?”

  John pressed on the crooked finger, its unnatural angle jutting out to the side. “I think it’s just dislocated.”

  Freddie gulped. “Can you fix it?”

  “Yup.”

  Usually popping the finger back in place before the patient realized what was coming was the best course of action. But when John grabbed Freddie’s finger and jerked, the young man went from green to white to gray to the ground in a matter of seconds.

  Katie ran across the yard to her inert fiancé. “Is he all right?”

  Kneeling to check the pulse at Freddie’s throat, John shrugged. “I guess I should have warned him.”

  Taking a small ax, he chipped a makeshift splint off one of the boards and wrapped Freddie’s finger while Katie wiped a damp cloth across his brow. He was conscious now, but his hands resembled those of a mummy, which was fitting. Once they finished this pyramid, it would need an occupant anyway.

  His latest injury required Freddie to sit out the rest of the afternoon, alleviating John’s fear that he would run out of bandages before Freddie ran out of fingers. And by the time the sun sat behind the hill, the roof was finished, the pig was roasted, and John was exhilarated.

  He’d made it.

  He’d kept up with the other men, working like a borrowed mule. To make things better, as soon as Randy realized his teasing was getting nowhere, he ceased trying and by afternoon, the men were laughing and joking with John like he was one of them.

  He was dirty and grubby and sore, and never felt better in his life. Dropping onto a bale of hay that had been brought into the barn for seats, he examined his work with pride. He recognized every board he’d nailed in place and every beam he’d help set.

  “Tired?” Katie handed him a plate of pork, more of the beans, and a hunk of hot corn bread smothered in butter.

  “A little. How’s Freddie?” he asked, between bites. Ambrosia couldn’t have tasted better.

  Katie gestured across the barn where Freddie sat, holding a plate on his lap with bandaged fingers. A skinny young girl was feeding him and Freddie’s face was red enough to light up the night.

  John chuckled. “I’m glad she’s feeding him. Maybe that way he won’t poke himself in the eye with the fork.”

  Katie answered, grinning, “I swear, that boy could hurt himself on lint.”

  John’s laugh stopped when Katie gently touched the back of his hand. “Looks like you got hurt too.”

  He glanced down at the dried blood on the gouge that crossed the back of his hand. “Just a scratch,” he said. It’d hurt like a son of a bitch, but Katie would never know that either. Even though he liked the look of sympathy in her eyes.

  “Y’all need to finish up, now,” an old man shouted as he walked to the center of the barn.

  John dragged his gaze away from Katie to the man. He carried a violin and was followed by a few other men with instruments John had never seen before.

  “It’s time to commence with the fun part o’ the day,” he said, tucking the violin into the crook of his arm.

  John enjoyed the violin, but when the old-timer struck his with his bow, the sound that came out was nothing like John had ever heard before. Toes tapping and hands clapping, the crowd came to life with the strange music pouring from the strings.

  “Old Pete is as good a fiddle player as you’ll hear in this neck of the woods,” Katie said, smiling and clapping with the rest of them.

  Another man joined Old Pete with a round white instrument resembling a guitar. His fingers moved up and down the neck of the instrument with blazing speed. “What’s that?”

  “That’s Ryan Stewart.”

  John smiled. “I meant the instrument.”

  “A banjo.” Her smile was tinged with disbelief. “You’ve never seen a banjo?”

  He shook his head.

  “Then you’ve probably never seen a juice harp either.”

  Shaking his head again, he watched in fascination as another man joined the song. Only this one held a small object in his mouth, which he flipped at the side to make an odd twanging sound.

  The last to join the crew had no instrument except his voice, which he used to shout, “Dancers, square your sets!”

  “Do you square dance?” Katie asked John.

  “No. I don’t know how.”

  Before Katie could respond to John’s confession, Randy rushed across the barn and grabbed her hand. “Come on, Katie. Let’s show these folks how this is done!”

  Katie laughed and followed Randy to the center where several other couples had already taken their places. The music kicked up a notch, if that was possible, and the shouting one began issuing orders in a language John had never heard before, but everyone else seemed to understand perfectly.

  Sashay here, promenade there, and allemande in between, John watched as a whirlwind of skirts swept the new floor clean.

  Laughing voices, clapping hands, and stomping feet led John to surmise this was the way they tested their new barns. If the rafters held up after an evening of this, the barn was as solid as a rock.

  One song ended and another began and the men, who had only moments before seemed too tired to walk, were now moving as if their pants were blazing.

  But none in the group had Katie’s spirit. Her face glowed and her smile sparkled as she laughed and twirled around the room. His enjoyment of her enjoyment was more than satisfying, but Katie had other plans. Before he knew what was happening, she was dragging him to the floor.

  “I don’t know how to do this,” he protested, but it was too late.

  “I’ll show you!” she shouted, and then the twirling began.

  She pulled him one way and then someone else pulled him another and by the time the dance was finished, he was surprised to learn he hadn’t ended up in the creek.

  He suspected that some of the pulling had been extraneous, especially when Randy had almost sent him into a pole, but even with that, he couldn’t remember ever enjoying an evening more.

  Until it was time for the wagon ride home.

  John, Katie, and Grandma sat on the wagon bench, while the rest of Katie’s family and Julia sat in the back. Rebecca had given Julia the ugliest yellow kitten John had ever seen, but Julia claimed it was exactly what she’d wanted, so it was cuddled inside her coat while she slept.

  The cold night air was settling into John’s overused body and Grandma’s conversation wasn’t helping things any as they wobbled over the dirt road toward town.

  “I swear, that Randy Kopp is the finest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Don’t you think so, Katie?”

  “He’s handsome enough,” Katie answered.

  “Handsome? He’s more than just handsome! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man work so hard. Why, I think he single-handedly built most that barn today.”

  John gritted his teeth and hoped Lightning found a big enough hole in the road to bounce Grandma off the bench. As dark as it was, maybe John could pretend he didn’t see her bounce away, and he could leave her behind as she sang Randy’s praises to the night.

  “All the men worked hard today,” Katie replied, and the pitiful hole Lightning hit only managed to scoot Katie a little closer to his side.

  The warmth of her leg, coupled with her response, helped soothe John’s pride and keep his tongue in check. Maybe having Katie next to him was better than bouncing Grandma down the road anyway.

  Tuning out Grandma’s prattle, he concentrated on the mule’s path down the road and allowed his mind to replay the day. Particularly the part where he’d decided it had been a great one. He was having trouble remembering that feeling since his muscles were setting up like stone.

  “Do you want
me to help put Julia to bed?” Katie asked, when they finally reached John’s house.

  “Nah,” he answered, hoping he sounded better than he felt. He reached for his sleeping daughter from Katie’s pa, who handed her over the edge of the wagon into John’s arms.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said to Katie. “But there’s no reason to come until about noon. I imagine Julia will sleep in late.”

  Katie nodded, then drove the wagon and her family off into the night, while John struggled to make his legs move. Up the four thousand steps that led to his second floor, he carried his daughter, wondering when she’d gained so much weight. He removed her coat and shoes, deciding there was no harm in allowing her to sleep in her dress, with her kitten. She snuggled into her pillow without opening her eyes.

  John eyed the floor beside her bed; tempting though it was, he decided he’d be better off to sleep in his bed. Unbuttoning his shirt as he walked down the hall, he managed to remove his shoes before finally falling face-first into his pillow.

  No wonder the ancient Egyptians were all dead.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lord have mercy, but Katie was tired. She’d been up half the night delivering Ida Thompson’s ninth baby only to go straight to John’s to fix lunch. After spending the day doing John and Julia’s wash, she started their dinner, then headed back to her cabin. She was glad to have the use of John’s wagon, but that required unhitching and bedding Lightning down in the shed each evening and rehitching him each morning.

  To make matters worse, her family had turned into pigs—whiny, pouting pigs at that.

  “Are we having eggs for dinner again?” Pa asked, acting as if that were all they’d had for the last ten years.

  Katie plopped another egg into the hot grease of her skillet and cringed. “It’s all I have time to fix. If you all would help around the cabin a little, maybe I’d be able to fix something else.”

  “It wasn’t a problem until you started working for Doc.” Grandpa came limping into the kitchen, evidently guilty of eavesdropping.