“Will you catch the baby when it comes?” she asked through her strained breathing.
He nodded and held his hands out toward her. “Do I put my hands under your dress?”
If the urge to push hadn’t been so overwhelming, she might have laughed. Instead, she lifted her dress and settled on the grass. “No. Get between my legs. The baby will come to you.”
He did as instructed, and she wasn’t sure if it was the hot air or the fact that she could feel the baby’s head getting ready to appear, but he looked as if he was ready to faint.
“You have to focus,” she told him. “Don’t think about what you’re doing. Just do it.”
That seemed to toughen him up, for his face regained its color. She’d assisted women in birth quite a few times in the tribe. She recalled the first time she’d done it. She’d felt disgusted and weak, both things he no doubt experienced now. But her mother had told her this was the way of things, and that she needed to focus on the moment. Don’t get distracted by anything but making sure the baby is alive, her mother had said.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on pushing, counting each second that passed. She had her own worries about the birth, but she couldn’t dwell on those at the moment. She could only hope this child would make it. If the child did, then this would be the one good thing that had happened to her in a long time.
Finally, she felt the head come out, and after that, there was a release of pressure which let her know the child had been born. As soon as she gathered the strength, she opened her eyes and dared to look at the baby.
The boy was squirming in Brandon’s hands. She checked for the cord, but it wasn’t around his neck. Then her gaze went back to the boy’s face. For what seemed like a long moment, there was no sound coming from the baby, but then a weak cry escaped from his mouth. The next cry was also weak, but then the one following it got stronger. And better yet, the baby was a healthy pink color. This baby didn’t have the bluish color her daughter had upon birth.
Brandon let out a laugh. He looked up at her. “My mother was right. There is something miraculous about a child’s birth.” He then hurried to wrap the baby in the towel and then gave the boy to her. “Here you go.” Then he turned to wash his hands.
She cradled the newborn in her arms, and the baby immediately settled down. She touched his face and his hands, just to make sure he was real—that this wasn’t all a dream.
“I’ll bring over some things to make you and the baby more comfortable,” Brandon said before he headed for their belongings.
Lokni turned her attention back to the child—her son!—and studied him. He was perfectly formed. He had a head full of dark hair, wide eyes, a button nose, ten fingers, and ten toes. His breathing was regular now, and he seemed intent on staring at her in wonder. Yes, he still needed to be washed up and the afterbirth needed to be dealt with, but that could wait for a moment. For now, right at this moment, she wanted to enjoy looking at her son. Brandon was right. It was a miracle that something so wonderful could come out of all the heartache and pain she’d had to endure over the past year.
Brandon came over to them with her blankets, a cloth and safety pins, a canteen, and some of his camping gear. He set the items down then set his rolled up bedroll behind her.
“I want you to lean back on this,” he said. “I know it won’t be the most comfortable position for you to be in, but I’m going to have to clean you up, and it’ll be easier to do that if you’re leaning back. But first,” he picked up the canteen and unscrewed the lid, “I want you to drink some water. You barely had anything to drink today. You have to be thirsty.”
In all the excitement of having her son, she’d forgotten about drinking anything. She accepted the canteen and drank from it.
“Do you think you’ll be able to walk in about a half hour?” he asked.
She handed him the empty canteen. “Yes.”
“Good because I think we’ll be better off sleeping over at the campfire.” He shook the canteen and frowned. “You were thirstier than I thought,” he said. “Do you need more water?”
“Not right now. I’m fine.”
“In that case, I’ll get you more water when I’m done cleaning the afterbirth,” he said as he took out the small knife from his sack. He glanced at her. “I don’t know much about this kind of thing, but I know that the cord needs to be cut. Do you want me to do it, or do you want to do it?”
“You do it.”
She didn’t want to take the chance her son would move while she was taking care of the cord. She moved the towel from her son so that Brandon got a clear view of the cord. Once he washed the knife in the pot, he cut it.
They settled into silence after that. She continued to study her son while Brandon took care of the afterbirth. A few times, she glanced at Brandon, wondering if he would get queasy, but his earlier apprehension had departed from him. She wasn’t sure why such was the case. Maybe when the situation called for it, he could press through his fears and get the job done. Sometimes it took being immersed in a trial in order to think clearly.
Once he was done, he helped her wash the child. She watched him, surprised he should be so gentle. He’d been gentle with her, too, now that she thought about it.
After a moment, she cleared her throat. “I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier today.”
He gave her a smile as he dried the boy’s feet. “You were in pain, and I was bothering you. It was to be expected.”
She returned his smile and then diapered her son with the small cloth. Once she secured the diaper with the safety pins, she swaddled him with one of Brandon’s clean shirts.
“You think you’re ready to move?” Brandon asked.
She nodded and let him slip his arm around her waist. He brought her to her feet and helped her to the campfire. He laid out the blankets and helped her settle on them.
“Will you be alright?” he asked.
“I’ll be fine. I should feed him. He hasn’t had anything since he came into the world.”
“Do you want to eat anything?”
She shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”
He hesitated but then went to his bedroll and set a handful of jerky on the blanket next to her. “In case you get hungry while I’m asleep, you can have this. I’m going to get you more water.”
She watched as he picked up the canteen and returned to the river. The sun had set by now. The oranges and pinks that had been in the sky had been replaced by various shades of blue that would soon give way to the dark of night. She turned her attention back to her son and began to nurse him. With a smile, she reached for his hand, and he clasped his small fingers—his small perfect fingers—around her thumb. The day had been perfect in so many ways. Tears welled up in her eyes.
Her son’s conception might not have been beautiful, but his birth certainly had been. And she couldn’t help but think that Brandon had really come through and helped her when she’d needed it. For the first time, she was glad the contractions she’d had that day at the preacher’s house had prevented her from leaving without Brandon. She didn’t know if this day would have gone so well if he hadn’t been with her.
She took one more look at Brandon while he was filling her canteen at the river. Turning her attention back to her son, she whispered, “Maybe Brandon’s not so bad after all.”
Chapter Six
It was right at dawn when Brandon woke up. For a moment, he thought the events of the previous day had been a dream, but when he sat up and looked across the campfire pit, he saw Lokni sleeping on her side with her baby sleeping next to her. Both of them looked as content as could be.
He still couldn’t believe how tiny the baby was. The moment he held the child, he was struck by a sense of awe. He’d never held a newborn child before. Actually, he hadn’t held any child before. His first wife had never gotten in the family way in the six years they’d been married. So it’d been a new experience to handle a baby. And he’d enjoyed it.
Holding onto the memory of that moment, Brandon picked up the canteen next to him and took a long drink of the water. It didn’t quench his thirst like he had expected. After a few seconds, he knew why. He hadn’t had any whiskey last night. On nights when he didn’t drink any whiskey, he’d woken up with a terrible thirst that water couldn’t quench. Given all the excitement, it wasn’t all that surprising he’d forgotten to get a couple swallows of whiskey in.
He put on his boots then got up from his bedroll and sorted through his belongings, careful not to wake Lokni or the baby. He found the six flasks. Already, two were empty, and half of the third was almost gone. He’d drunk too much. There was no way his remaining supply would last until they reached town. They needed to stay here for a couple of days. Lokni was in no shape to continue on their way to town. She and the baby needed time to rest after all their hard work yesterday.
Leaving the flasks in his sack, he returned to the canteen and made his way to the river. The morning was quiet, except for the insects chirping around him. He sat on the bank of the river and drank the rest of the water in the canteen. Still, the nagging thirst wouldn’t go away. He wiped his mouth and stared at the water flowing in front of him, willing the gentle current to calm him so that he didn’t notice the absence of alcohol in his body. After a few minutes, it worked. The urge to go to his flasks and take a drink passed.
Relieved, he knelt by the river and filled the canteen. If he’d been smart, he would have brought Lokni’s canteen with him. She might have finished the whole thing last night.
He stood up and returned to their camp. Once he put his canteen down, he checked hers and noticed that it was half full. After a quick debate, he decided to fill it back up. It wouldn’t hurt for her to have a full canteen. As he was filling her canteen, he heard the sound of an animal in the grass nearby. He glanced over and saw a rabbit jump away from him.
That gave him an idea. They would be stuck here for at least a couple of days. He’d seen wildlife on their way through the prairie. There were a few deer that passed on by them from time to time. Some fresh meat would be a nice reprieve from all the jerky and other scraps they’d been eating.
Excited, he hurried back to the camp, quietly set the canteen beside Lokni, and then sorted through the bullets. Good. He had more than enough for his rifle. He knew he had them for his Colt .45, but it was nice to know he also had them for his rifle. The rifle would make it easier to hunt.
In the meantime, it might be nice to have some fish for breakfast. He was sure he saw a fish or two swimming in the river. They were out of eggs, and he didn’t want more bland oatmeal. But fish would be different, and maybe Lokni might like a change of menu, too. Besides, considering how early it was, he didn’t think she’d be up for another hour, and it would take a while to catch fish.
Decision made, he grabbed the pot he’d cleaned out last night after he’d taken care of Lokni’s afterbirth and went to the river. He set the bowl on the riverbank, took off his boots and knitted socks. Then he rolled his trousers up to his knees. He went into the cold water and paused long enough to get used to the temperature before he proceeded further, careful to stick to the shallow areas.
He caught sight of a fish swimming by and reached for it, but the thing was too slippery and escaped. He waited for the next one to come, but he missed that one as well. During his childhood, he used to fish this way. Waiting for a fish to take the bait on a hook hadn’t been his style.
Now, however, he would have preferred to sit on the bank and wait for the fish to come to him instead of standing in the cold water. If he wasn’t so determined to get fish for breakfast, he would have given up in the first twenty minutes of unsuccessfully catching anything.
But then, as the sun started coming up over the horizon, his luck changed, and he managed to get one. He took it to the pot and threw it in. Encouraged, he went back into the river. By the time the sunlight was hitting him in the eyes, he had gathered three more.
When he made it back to the camp, Lokni was nursing her son.
“Do you like fish?” he asked as he set the pot by the campfire pit.
“Yes, it’s alright,” she replied as she looked at the pot. “You have fish in there?”
Unable to hide his excitement, he smiled as he grabbed the items he needed to start a fire. “Four. And I’m going to cook them up for breakfast. It’ll be a nice change, don’t you think?”
“It will.”
As he worked on getting the fire going, he asked, “Do you eat fish often?”
“No. I only ate it when my tribe came upon a river.”
“Did your tribe move around a lot?”
“We did. Sometimes we’d stay somewhere for a few months. Especially when the weather was cold. But in warm seasons, we’d go from one area to another in search of food to sustain us.”
“So all this traveling we’re doing right now is common for you?”
“It is. It’s just that you and I don’t have a teepee to sleep in.”
That explained why she didn’t complain about the long days of walking. He’d heard of tribes that went from one place to another. Most of them would trade for goods with the white man. He wondered if her tribe had settled near the town to trade goods when Orson and his goons took her. He thought of asking, but it seemed like it was much too soon to get personal about anything. They still didn’t know much about each other.
And besides, they’d just had a part of bringing a new life into the world yesterday. The day had been one of the best he’d ever experienced. He wasn’t sure he wanted to taint the good memory with something as unpleasant as the circumstances surrounding her kidnapping.
“I was heading to California when we met,” he finally decided to say. “I heard it’s beautiful there. A man I knew told me that if you go south enough, the weather is nice all year around. The ocean is out there, too, and it’s supposed to be one of the most awe-inspiring sights a man can lay eyes on. I thought it would be a nice place to live, so that’s the direction we’ve been going.” He paused then added, “It sounds like a good place to raise a family.”
Unable to keep looking at her, he turned his attention back to the fire that he’d finally got going. He waved the flames to encourage them to get stronger. He’d probably said too much. Yes, they were stuck together. Their futures were now entwined. She had a child that he would be a father to. But since love hadn’t been the force that had brought them together, it felt awkward to mention that they were a family.
He probably should have kept his mouth shut. He should have just told her about California and left it at that. He shouldn’t have let the dreams he’d had when he married the first time get in the way of how things really were. When he was married the first time, he had been excited about the possibility of having children. If it hadn’t been for the baby Lokni just had, he was sure the words would never have escaped his lips.
Something in him couldn’t help but be impacted by the child’s birth. He thought of explaining all of this to Lokni. But what if he only made things worse? Being eloquent of speech had never been his strong point. If he was smart, he would act like he hadn’t said anything and just fry up the fish. So, deciding he would be smart for once, he gathered his cooking supplies and started to cook the fish, pretending he didn’t notice how awkward the silence was between them.
***
Lokni wasn’t sure how to respond. Yes, he’d been nice to her ever since they’d met. Nicer than any man she’d ever come across. But she wasn’t sure it was something to base an entire life on. He was still very much a stranger to her, and she had her child to think about.
Her gaze went to her son’s face. There was no telling who the father was
. Maybe since her son was a little lighter in skin tone than she was, people might assume Brandon was his father. It would help to avoid any awkward questions, especially since no one had to know she had given birth to him right after marrying Brandon. People didn’t need to know her past. They didn’t need to know the details of the child’s conception.
Her son drifted off to sleep just as Brandon finished with the fish. She placed him on the blanket next to her. He was swaddled up in one of Brandon’s shirts. Given the cool air of the morning, she used part of her blanket and tucked it around him. Then she lowered her dress.
She probably should have felt shy about exposing so much of herself to Brandon, but after all she’d been through, it was the least of her concerns. She’d lost all sense of modesty when Orson and his friends came into her life. Right now, she was just glad her son was alive, and from the looks of it, he was healthy. Besides, if Brandon wanted to do something, she couldn’t stop him. Like the other men, he was too strong for her to overcome.
But Brandon hadn’t made a move to touch her except to clean her up after the birth and help her walk. He’d seen her nursing her son but hadn’t stared at her breasts. Then again, she figured nursing infants wasn’t something that would arouse a man. And that worked to her advantage. She really didn’t want to be with another man again.
Even in her tribe when she’d been with her first husband, she’d dreaded it. He was kind enough, she supposed. But she’d only been one of his wives. Her sisters had also been married to him, and all he’d cared about was getting her with child.
She hadn’t been his favorite wife. He’d only married her because her parents had arranged it when she turned fourteen. He had been one of the best hunters in the tribe, and because of that, her parents had wished for all of their three daughters to have his children.
She and her first husband never said much to each other, and she was relieved when he went to one of her sisters instead. That particular arrangement, despite all of its unpleasantness, had been preferable to Orson and his men. With Orson and his men, there hadn’t been the least bit of kindness, and for the first time, she had actually missed her first husband who had died when their tribe was raided.
Forced into Marriage Page 5
