Wonderful Lonesome

by Newport, Olivia

  Abigail rushed toward the buggy. “Are you in labor?”

  “No.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Eber?”

  Ruthanna nodded.

  Abbie spun around in a circle, her gaze sweeping the property.

  “Is your mamm here?” Panic struck Ruthanna. Esther was Eber’s best hope for relief.

  “She’s here somewhere.”

  “Please, Abbie, you have to find her.”

  Ananias emerged from the house with Levi on his heels.

  “We need Mamm,” Abbie said. “Right now.”

  “She walked over to visit with Mary Miller,” Ananias said.

  Ruthanna did not recognize the sound that pulled at her depths.

  Abbie climbed into the wagon. “It’s Eber.”

  “I will go for the doctor myself.” Ananias slapped the haunch of Ruthanna’s horse, then pivoted and started for the Weaver buggy.

  Ruthanna surrendered the reins to Abbie, closed her eyes, and trusted that the Holy Ghost would translate her fear into prayer.

  W ith Ruthanna leaning against her for the short distance between where she parked the buggy and the door to the Gingerich house, Abbie focused through the quiver in her knees and her stampeding heart.

  Ruthanna groaned and put her open hand against her back.

  “Do you feel all right?” Abbie asked.

  “Eber is what matters now.” Ruthanna turned the doorknob, and they stepped inside the house before she paused to catch her breath. “He’s in the bedroom.”

  Abbie rolled in her bottom lip and bit gently, going ahead of Ruthanna toward the bedroom. The stench made her turn her head before she got there. She indulged the rise of bile from her own stomach for only a second before swallowing it and forcing firm steps. Eber lay tangled in sweat-drenched bedding with one arm draped around a smell metal pail. Abbie did not have to look to know its contents were viscous green fluid and blood. She paced around the bed in the cramped room, picking up a towel from the dresser on her way and used it to wipe Eber’s pallid face. The bed creaked as Ruthanna lowered herself onto the other side and took Eber’s head in her lap.

  “When did this start?” Abbie asked softly. She lifted a bowl of water and judged it had already been used several times to rinse soiled cloths.

  “A few hours.”

  Limon was eight miles. Even if Ananias Weaver found the doctor quickly, eight miles back would seem like a trek through the Rockies. “The doctor is coming,” she said.

  Ruthanna stroked Eber’s matted hair and beard. “I know this is the end, Abbie.”

  “Reuben will find my mamm. She’ll be here soon.” Abbie turned away to cover her nose and mouth for a moment, trying to find even a minute stream of air that did not taste rancid. Taking small breaths, she turned around. “Shall we try to make him more comfortable? Clean things up?”

  Ruthanna kissed Eber’s sweat-caked forehead. “The spare sheets are in the bottom drawer.”

  Abbie pulled the drawer open and lifted the sheets and set them on the dresser. She had once seen a nurse in a hospital change the sheets under a patient who could not get out of bed. Gingerly she pulled back the sheet covering Eber. His skeletal condition, garbed only in undergarments, shocked her, but she pressed her lips together and tossed the soiled top sheet to the floor. Starting gently with one corner of the bottom sheet, she began inching it out from under Eber. Ruthanna stood to help and they managed to change the sheets and Eber’s undershirt.

  Abbie bundled the sheets in her arms and picked up the revolting pail. “I’ll get some fresh water from the well and put these to soak.”

  Ruthanna pushed the window open before returning to her vigil post on the bed beside Eber. She picked up another small pail and set it within reach. Not once had Eber opened his eyes while Ruthanna and Abbie cleaned up around him, and now Ruthanna wondered if she would ever see the blazing blue of his eyes again. Had she known that his last gaze would be the last, she would have fallen into the pleading pools of his eyes to soak up one final memory of his face.

  She picked up a limp hand and held it between both of hers. “Does it feel better to be cleaned up? I’m sorry I couldn’t manage to do that on my own.”

  Eber took a ragged breath, his chest barely lifting, and Ruthanna stilled her movements to see if he would exhale. Five seconds passed, then ten. She counted almost to twenty before the air moved out of him.

  “I hope you know how much I love you,” she whispered. “God smiled on me the day we met. I could not have hoped for God’s will to be more gracious toward me.”

  He inhaled with a rasp, his mouth opening slightly.

  Ruthanna cupped her hand around his face. “I would take away every throb of your pain if only I could.”

  His exhale was the faintest she had ever heard.

  Ruthanna winced, moved a hand to the side of her protruding abdomen, and forced herself to exhale. The pain was longer than usual, the hardening beneath her hand more persistent. False labor pains had been striking at unpredictable intervals for weeks. Esther reminded her every time they spoke that she would know real labor when it began. That was still weeks away by Ruthanna’s reckoning.

  A sob clenched her chest as the vice around her middle released its grip. Her child would not know the light of its father’s eyes, or the cradle of his arms, or the beat of his heart as he held the babe to his chest. Ruthanna slid down in the bed, reaching her arms around her own midsection to grasp her husband’s thin form.

  It seemed like Abbie had to let the bucket down a long way before she heard it splash against the surface of the well’s water. It was no different on her own family’s farm. Normally she was careful not to use more water than she needed, but today was no time to conserve. She dumped the water into a tub she had found outside Ruthanna’s front door that now held the soiled sheets then let the bucket down again. Soaking out the stains would take plenty of cold water.

  When she heard the horse’s hooves she paused to look up. “Willem!”

  He seemed surprised to see her. Then his eyes dropped to the tub. “The baby?”

  “Eber.”

  When the bucket came to the top of the well again, Willem grabbed it and emptied it into the tub. “What happened?”

  Abbie scratched at the back of one hand. “It’s time.”

  Willem’s eyes widened. “Time for what? I just came to see what chores needed doing.”

  Abbie’s stomach rolled, and she wondered how many times she would have to voice these words. “I should have insisted they both go to Colorado Springs or Denver. Another doctor might have made a difference. The English have specialists.”

  Willem grasped her fidgeting wrist. “Abigail, say what you must.”

  “When is the last time you saw Eber?”

  “A few days ago. A week.”

  “I would have come sooner if I had any idea.” She ran her tongue over her lips and looked up at his eyes. “Eber will leave this world today.”

  Willem started and his eyes snapped toward the house.

  “Daed has already gone to Limon for the doctor,” Abbie said, “but it will not matter now.”

  “You can’t be sure of that.”

  Abbie pushed his hand off her wrist and gestured toward the tub. “I’ve been in there, Willem. I’ve seen him. He’s been a lot sicker than he let any of us believe.”

  Willem held a hand over both eyes.

  Abbie trembled through her core. “I should go back in. Ruthanna should not be alone.” She turned to go.

  Willem stopped her and wrapped his arms around her. Despite her resolve, Abbie melted against him and buried her head in his chest while he stroked the back of her neck. Neither his firm hold nor solid stance quelled the dread rising from a foreign space at the pit of her stomach. She circled his waist with her arms, and still she shook.

  “I have to go in,” she said hoarsely.

  “We’ll go together.” Willem unfolded the
embrace and steered Abbie toward the house.

  Eber’s stomach had retched several times in a vain attempt to empty, but unconscious he could not lift his head to the pail. Ruthanna did her best to turn him on his side with a towel under his face so she could lie beside him and wipe the blood that dribbled between his parched lips. Relief rushed through Ruthanna when she saw Willem and Abbie come through the door together.

  “Thank you,” Ruthanna murmured. “Thank you both.”

  Abbie picked up the washbasin from the dresser and the two rags draped across its rim. “I’ll get some fresh water.”

  “The barrel in the kitchen is almost empty.”

  “I can fill it,” Willem said.

  Ruthanna nodded, her hand once again going to the pain in her abdomen. Abbie left with the washbasin. Ruthanna listened to the familiar sounds of throwing the reddish brown water out the back door and swishing water in the basin to rinse it clean before filling it afresh. Abbie’s skirts rustled with the normal movements of simple housekeeping. Ruthanna could tell Abbie had paused to pull a rag across the kitchen table and push the canisters of flour and sugar to one side.

  Ruthanna groaned and tried to shift her weight.

  “Are you all right?” Willem asked.

  “I think I need to sit up for a while,” she said. Her back ached violently as the now familiar roll of pain began a fresh circuit. She put a hand out, and Willem grasped her arm all the way to the elbow as she righted herself. Beside her, Eber’s breath leaked out of him, and Ruthanna once again counted the seconds and waited for his lungs to move. The number was higher with each interval. She lost track of whether she was measuring Eber’s breath or her own pain.

  The front door opened, and a moment later Esther Weaver’s form blocked the light coming from the main room.

  “Reuben brought me,” Esther said. She immediately moved to Ruthanna and laid a hand on her midsection.

  “Thank you for coming.”

  “Are you in labor?” Esther asked quietly.

  “The false pains.” Ruthanna grimaced.

  “They are not always false,” Esther said, “not at this stage.”

  Ruthanna shook her head. “It’s too soon.” She turned her head back to Eber, trying to remember where she left off counting before Esther came in and unsure whether she had missed a breath cycle.

  She did not think so.

  Esther rounded the bed for a closer look at Eber. Ruthanna knew better than to seek a glimmer of hope.

  Eber’s chest did not move. Ruthanna wiped his mouth again and laid her ear against his mouth even as her abdomen squeezed with fresh fury.

  Esther lifted Ruthanna’s hand, drawing Ruthanna’s gaze up.

  “I’m concerned, Ruthanna,” Esther whispered. “This is a terrible moment for you, but we must think of the baby.”

  Ruthanna exhaled sharply and sucked in three quick breaths. Still she counted. Still Eber’s chest did not move.

  She felt the trickle of fluid between her legs.

  Eber’s chest lifted. Or perhaps Ruthanna only thought it had. “Ruthanna.”

  She looked up at Esther’s face.

  Esther pointed to the puddle forming on the floor beneath Ruthanna’s feet.

  Ruthanna nodded in answer to Esther’s unspoken question. Her waters had broken.

  Esther glanced at Eber, before turning toward the door and softly calling Abbie’s name.

  Abbie entered the bedroom with the basin of fresh water, her eyes immediately going to Eber. Willem shuffled toward her and took the basin. Abbie sat on the edge of the bed with her arms around Ruthanna.

  Ruthanna grimaced and grunted with the next pain.

  “It’s only been a couple of minutes since the last one,” Esther observed. “Your baby is coming, Ruthanna.”

  “But Eber.” Ruthanna huffed out her strained breath.

  Abbie stood up and pulled Ruthanna to her feet as well. She held Ruthanna’s face in both hands. “Eber is gone, Ruthanna. But his child will soon be in your arms.”

  Ruthanna wailed for the first time. Whether in pain or grief she was not sure and it did not matter. Eber had left her for the arms of the Savior.

  “But what about Eber?” Ruthanna asked when the contraction subsided.

  Abbie pulled the sheet up over Eber’s face. “We’ll take care of him, too. But we have to get you comfortable.”

  “Where? I can’t give birth in the bed now.”

  Abbie looked at Willem. “Bring some hay from the barn, Willem. We’ll make a pallet.”

  Willem nodded and left. Ruthanna gripped Abbie’s hand as she led her to a chair in the main room. Eber always said that as soon as they got a bit of money they would get some decent chairs, or he would learn to make a glider for her. For now, all she had to sit on was the straight-back padless chair Eber had used when he sat outside. As she sat, she turned the chair toward the bedroom and fastened her eyes again on the shape on the bed. Esther was tucking the white sheet around Eber’s form.

  The next pain seized her.

  Abbie was scrambling around the stove, trying to stoke the fire and looking for a pot.

  “The big one is on the back porch.” Ruthanna forced the words out between gritted teeth.

  “You’re going to be all right, Ruthanna.” Abbie touched Ruthanna’s shoulder before stepping out the back door.

  The room suddenly went frosty. Ruthanna began to shiver. Her husband was wrapped in a sheet, and her baby was coming a month early. How could she have a baby without Eber?

  She leaned forward and keened.

  As soon as he dragged half a bale of hay through the back door and Abbie spread the most tattered quilt she could find over it, Willem excused himself. He paused only for a scant look at Eber before dragging the now empty water barrel out of the kitchen and toward the well. The cows would need to be milked before long, and he wondered when the last time was that Ruthanna took a slop bucket out to the chickens. Eber’s horse was still hitched to the buggy Ruthanna had taken to the Weavers.

  Willem was glad for the chores. He could stay near without feeling in the way of the birthing work. He stood the barrel on end next to the well and began to fill it one bucket at a time.

  Rudy galloped into the yard. “I ran into Ananias on his way for the doctor.”

  “It’s too late.” Willem sighed and dumped another bucket.

  Rudy slung out of his saddle and folded his long form as if he had been kicked in the stomach. “God’s will is surely mysterious sometimes.”

  Willem nodded. “There’s no way to get word to the doctor that he need not come.”

  Rudy let out one long, slow breath. “Perhaps he will have a potion for Ruthanna. She must be frantic, but she will need to rest.”

  “I’m afraid it is too late for her to rest as well, although she might yet have need of the good doctor’s expertise before the night is over. I assume he knows how to deliver a baby.”

  Rudy stopped Willem’s cranking motion with one long hand. “Ruthanna is birthing her child now? With Eber just gone?”

  “What we really need,” Willem said, “is an undertaker. I know we usually bury our dead within a day or so, but Ruthanna will be in no condition. And she will insist on being there.”

  “She should be there. Eber will only have one funeral.”

  “Eber will have to be embalmed to give her some time to recover from the birth. A few days, at least. We could try to buy some ice to put under him, but the days are still warm. It will be difficult to cover the smell.”

  “You are right that he should be embalmed.” Rudy released his hold, and Willem resumed cranking up the bucket. “But an English undertaker will want a fee.”

  “Yes, I suppose he will. We’ll have to sort that out later.”

  “Maybe he would like free eggs and fresh milk for a few weeks.” Rudy turned back to his horse and prepared to mount. “I will go to Limon and see what arrangement I can make.”

  Abbie knelt at Ruthanna’s
head and let her friend dig her fingernails into her arm with neither flinch nor protest. When she was not grunting against pain, Ruthanna sobbed and cried her husband’s name. On the stove, the soup pot of water seemed to refuse to boil, and when Willem returned with the barrel, Abbie wanted to start another pot.

  Abbie reminded herself that her mother had been an unofficial but experienced midwife at dozens of births, but still she admired the quiet calm Esther exuded as she went about getting Ruthanna comfortable on the pallet of hay with her knees up and inspecting to see how far labor had progressed.

  “Try to relax between contractions,” Esther said with one hand on Ruthanna’s abdomen. “I do not think it will be long before it’s time to push.”

  “It was not supposed to be like this.” Ruthanna’s voice was at near-shriek pitch. “Eber wanted a child even more than I did. God waited years before giving us one.”

  “Shh.” Esther patted Ruthanna’s arm. “The hardest part is ahead of you. You must save your strength.”

  Ruthanna flopped her head back on the hay. “My strength died with my husband.”

  Esther positioned herself where she could look Ruthanna in the eye. “You still have a baby coming. Nothing is going to change that. You must focus on what you have to do.”

  Ruthanna’s head swung widely from side to side. “What does it matter without Eber?”

  “This child is a gift from God,” Esther said softly but firmly. “When he is in your arms, you will treasure him. You will see Eber in his face every day. Right now you must birth him, nothing else.”

  Ruthanna’s cry settled into a whimper, but when the next contraction came, she was ready.