The Hen House

by Sharon Sala

  “Robert Lee.”

  He spun abruptly. The rising wind was pushing the skirt of her smock against her belly and tangling the tendrils of her hair that had come unloose from the pins. He glanced up at the gathering clouds, dropped the axe, and grabbed her by the arm.

  “It’s going to rain.”

  “Most likely,” she said, and pointed at the tent. “Gather up your things. You’re coming to the house with me.”

  “Letty, you know—”

  “Do shut up, Robert Lee. Winter is upon us and I won’t have you sleeping out here in this pitiful tent when there’s a perfectly good room off the kitchen. Mary and Delilah made up a bed for you. Alice is raring to cook for a man. She claims none of us eat enough to warrant all her hard work.”

  “But what will people—”

  Letty snorted.

  “Surely you know me well enough by now to know that I don’t give a damn about what people think. Don’t make me ask you again. Get your stuff and be quick about it. I don’t relish getting myself all wet.”

  Robert Lee moved like a man in a trance. Even as he was gathering up his things, he knew everything was going to change. Whether it would be for the best, or just make everything worse, remained to be seen. But from his experience of the past events, he could not, in good conscience, leave these women alone on the mountain.

  By the time he was through, the wind was rising even more. As he started toward the house with Letty at his side, Alice was coming from town at a hasty clip, trying to beat the storm. She overtook, then passed them with the wagon on her way to the house.

  The women unloaded their supplies quickly. Mary and Delilah unhooked the team of horses and led them to the shed just as the first drops of rain were beginning to fall.

  Katie had fallen asleep in the back of the wagon.

  Robert Lee quickly dumped his belongings inside the kitchen and ran back to get her.

  “See… this is working out already,” Letty said, as he carried the little girl into the house.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, as he carried the little girl into the parlor and laid her down on the red settee.

  Delilah glanced around the room, shivering as a blast of wind rattled the leafless lilac bush at the side of the house.

  “I’ll add some wood to the fire in the parlor,” she said, and hurried to the back porch to get firewood.

  A short time ago Letty had walked through these rooms, feeling the space and the loneliness, but with everyone back and noise being made, everything felt right and safe.

  Watching Robert Lee as he followed Delilah out, then as they both returned carrying firewood, she felt a great sense of satisfaction. Delilah put down her load and left the room, as Robert Lee set about stirring the embers in the fireplace before adding dry logs. She knew he was uncomfortable around her, and when she was honest with herself, admitted she was a little uncomfortable around him. His presence in the house was going to change everything. Whether it was for the good of her odd, little family still remained to be seen. All she knew was, she didn’t want to see him ride away.

  Rain was coming down in earnest when she felt the first stirring of pain. It began in the low of her back, and then rippled around her belly like a belt that was being pulled too tight.

  “Oh,” she grunted, and clasped her hands against what had once been her waist.

  Robert Lee stood up from the fire and turned around.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe it was just a—”

  The second wave of pain hit her in the same place, only harder.

  “Oh lord,” she said, then took a slow, deep breath. “I think it’s the baby.”

  Robert Lee felt as if he’d been sucker punched. All the air went out of his lungs as his knees went weak.

  “Don’t move,” he cried.

  She grimaced. “I’m not accepting any dances in the near future, if that’s what you’re worrying about.”

  He shot out of the room, calling Alice’s name. Moments later, they came back running.

  “Get her upstairs,” Alice said.

  Robert Lee picked Letty up in his arms.

  “I can still walk,” Letty said, but no one was listening. Moments later as another pain tore through her, she was glad that she’d been ignored.

  He got her to her bedroom just ahead of the women. Once he laid her down, he was shooed out of the room. His last glimpse of Letty, she was waving a hand in Delilah’s direction with a determined jut to her chin. Like everything else she did, she was already taking charge.

  After that, time seemed to stand still. He carried his things into the extra room off the kitchen, trying not to think of what was going on upstairs.

  There wasn’t much to unpack. A straight razor and shaving cup—a couple of changes of clothes—and a mirror with a crack up the left side. He set a wooden box on the floor behind his bed then toed it under. It contained extra ammunition and the equipment he used to clean his weapon. All in all, it was a poor accumulation of goods considering his age and the places that he’d been. He couldn’t help but worry about what hanging his hat under this roof would bring to the table. All he knew was that he had to be careful. The last thing he would ever want to do was hurt Letty—and yet he was here, where the opportunity to do so would constantly be presenting itself.

  It took less than ten minutes to lay claim to the room. It wasn’t nearly long enough to keep his mind off of her and the impending birth. As he paced the floor in front of the parlor fireplace, he kept thinking of Eulis. He should be the one pacing here—relishing the upcoming addition to his family—not rotting in a pine box in the back yard.

  Thunder rumbled loudly overhead, followed by a sharp crack of lightning. He flinched as the momentary flash lit up the room, but once it was over, he realized how dark it had gotten outside. He lit an oil lamp and then a candle, set one on the table, the other on the mantel, and then poked at the brightly burning fire for lack of anything else to do. The storm had hastened nightfall. If only it sped up the birth of the baby, as well.

  One hour flowed into a second, and then a third. Once as he was passing the foot of the stairs, he heard a low, anguished moan. The sound ripped through him like a knife to the heart. He stood there, listening—waiting—praying for a signal that her suffering would soon be over.

  It didn’t come.

  Five hours, then six came and went. Alice came downstairs, her face flushed, her hair hanging around her cheeks in tangled wisps.

  “Go get Dr. Warren,” she said.

  Robert Lee froze.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Alice wrung her hands. “I don’t know. It’s just that she’s not progressing as she should.”

  “Jesus,” Robert Lee whispered.

  “Pray to Him as you ride,” she said, and then hurried back up the stairs.

  Robert Lee headed for the shed to saddle his horse, running as he went. He untied a poncho from the back of his saddle and pulled it over his head. It wasn’t much protection from the downpour, but it was better than nothing.

  The thunder and lightning had long since passed, leaving behind nothing but the rain. As he rode, the wind blew it in his face. He pulled his hat down a little tighter on his head, tilting the brim just enough to keep it out of his eyes. Twice, his horse lost its footing and slipped, the last time going all the way to its knees. He pulled hard on the reins and leaned back, barely managing to stay seated. Relief swept through him when he finally saw the lights of Denver City.

  The town had grown so much in the past years that it took longer to ride through Main Street and the doctor’s house was at the far end of town.

  Unknowingly, he rode past it in the dark, and then quickly backtracked, with his heart in his throat. He dismounted and ran toward the door.

  After a round of frantic knocking, he saw the faint glow of lamplight through the curtains at the window. When his call was finally answered, it was Mild
red, the doctor’s wife, who let him in.

  “Robert Lee? Is that you?” she asked, as she held a lit candle above her head.

  “Yes, ma’am, it’s me. We need the doctor up at the Potter house. Letty is in labor.”

  “Oh lord, Angus is out of town tending a family with typhoid. He won’t be back for at least a day or more.”

  Robert Lee felt sick.

  “Then you come.”

  “Do you know what kind of trouble she’s in?”

  “No, ma’am. Alice just came downstairs and told me to go get the doctor.”

  “All right. I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I’ll come. Just let me get dressed.”

  “Oh… ma’am… I’m sorry, but I didn’t bring the wagon.”

  Mildred Warren waved him toward a chair on the porch.

  “Will your horse carry us both?”

  “Yes, ma’am, but—”

  “I can ride. I won’t win any prizes, but I can ride.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Robert Lee said, as he took a seat in the chair. “But if you don’t mind me asking… please hurry.”

  The door closed between them. Robert Lee bowed his head, and for the first time in years, really prayed.

  Within minutes she was back, wearing a pair of her husband’s pants and a long overcoat.

  “If Letty can dress like this, then I suppose I can, too,” she said, and took the help Robert Lee offered as she crawled up on the horse.

  As she claimed, it wasn’t pretty, but she was astride. Robert Lee climbed on behind her, and together, they rode back up the mountain to Letty.

  ***

  Letty was tired—so tired she didn’t think she’d ever be rested again. She wanted to quit and just close her eyes, but she didn’t have the luxury. She was in the middle of a breath when the next wave of pain came, pulling and twisting at every muscle in her body until she felt as if she was coming apart. She arched toward the pain, and then screamed as it rolled down the length of her spine.

  Delilah was in tears.

  Mary was tight-lipped and frightened.

  Alice was almost as weary as Letty, determined that this birth would not be a disaster.

  They’d put Katie to bed hours ago, but unknown to them, she was still up and sitting in a corner of the upstairs hall, afraid to close her eyes.

  She was the first to hear the commotion downstairs, and jumped up and hid. She saw Robert Lee dragging someone up the stairs, and scooted to her room before she was discovered. They were dripping mud and water all over Miz Letty’s clean floors, and thought about telling them they were going to be in trouble, but she decided against it and stayed put.

  Mildred was shedding her coat and hat as she went, and it was all she could do to keep up with Robert Lee as he hurried her along. But his haste came to an abrupt stop when he heard Letty scream.

  “God in heaven,” he muttered.

  “It doesn’t mean anything except that it hurts,” Mildred said, and dumped the last of her weather gear in the hall by the door. She left the door ajar as she rushed inside, giving Robert Lee a clear view of Letty’s face.

  Her hair was stuck to her face from perspiration, and she was holding on to the headboard of the bed so hard that her knuckles were white. Before he could move, someone shut the door. He felt as if someone had cut off his breath.

  He didn’t know how long he stood there without moving, but it was long enough for Letty’s screams to be branded into his brain. When Alice came running out of the room sometime later, he was still there.

  “Sakes alive!” she muttered, and had to side-step Robert Lee to keep from plowing into him. “I didn’t know you were here.”

  “Why isn’t the baby coming?” he asked.

  Alice rolled her eyes.

  “I don’t know. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear Letty just doesn’t want to give it up.”

  Robert Lee frowned. “What the hell are you saying?”

  Alice swiped her hands up her face, pushing the hair from her eyes.

  “As long as the baby was in her, she knew she could keep it safe, but once it’s born, a mother can do her best and still lose it. I learned that the hard way.”

  Robert Lee remembered then that Alice had lost her baby.

  “Oh… I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

  “It’s all right. Now, go on with you. This is women’s work.”

  Robert Lee frowned as she sped down the stairs. What if Alice was right? What if Letty was putting herself and her baby in danger by an unwillingness to let go?

  He ducked his head and started down the stairs, then stopped. By God, he hadn’t come this far with that woman just to lose her this way.

  He set his jaw and turned on his heel. Moments later, he was standing in the doorway, his gaze fixed directly on Letty’s face.

  “God damn it, Leticia! You can’t control everything. Give up the fight and let that baby be born!”

  Surprised by his presence, everyone froze.

  Letty threw her head back, meeting his gaze with something akin to desperation. She was still staring when he slammed the door shut between them. They heard his steps receding, and then heard him stomping down the stairs.

  “What on earth?” Alice muttered.

  “Pay him no mind,” Mildred said, as she braced herself for Letty’s next contraction.

  The pain was subsiding, but Letty was already gathering herself for the next. She’d heard Robert Lee through a numbing fog, and only now, was absorbing what he’d actually said. Was he right? Was she delaying this birth by refusing to give up the control?

  Alice’s hand was on her belly.

  “Here comes another one,” she said, as she felt the muscles contracting again.

  Letty closed her eyes, took a deep, weary breath, and then this time, instead of holding her breath against the pain, rode all the way through it.

  “That’s it! That’s it!” Mildred cried. “You can do this. You’re a strong-willed woman, so make this happen.”

  When the next pains came, Letty pushed—and pushed—and pushed again. She was somewhere between exhaustion and unconscious when she heard a loud, angry cry.

  “It’s a boy!” someone cried.

  Letty gritted her teeth, willing herself to stay focused, and held out her arms.

  “Give him to me.”

  “Just a minute,” Mildred said, as she quickly cut the cord and began cleaning up the baby.

  The little fellow was wailing lustily as Mildred wiped him down. She wrapped him in a blanket and then laid him on Letty’s chest.

  Within seconds, Letty’s arms closed around him, holding him close—holding him safe—as close to her heart as she could get him.

  “Prop me up,” she said.

  Mildred frowned. “But the afterbirth—”

  “Will tend to itself,” Letty muttered. “I need to see my son.”

  And she did.

  His little face was red and puckered—his mouth wide open in a loud, toothless wail. His hair was thick and dark. She peeled back the blanket to count fingers and toes as he continued to complain about the mistreatment of his arrival into this world.

  When she was satisfied that he was perfect, she rolled him back up in the blanket and held him close.

  “Here… give him to me,” Alice said.

  “Not yet,” Letty said. “It’s only fair that, as his mother, I am forced to listen to his first complaint.”

  Having said that, she looked down at his angry, red face and grinned. The louder he wailed, the more she smiled. Finally, the baby’s cries eased somewhat, leaving him with a squeak, not unlike that of a baby kitten.

  At that point, Letty laughed aloud.

  ***

  Robert Lee was sitting at the bottom of the stairs with his head in his hands, struggling to stay sane between Letty’s moans and wails. The room was lit now by nothing but a single candlelight and the glow from the dying parlor fire in the other room. Sitting in the dark only added to the drama of
the night. True panic hadn’t come until one long, agonized scream.

  He stood abruptly, ready to dash back up the stairs and beg Letty not to die when, moments later, he heard a baby cry. Every muscle in his body went weak. Even though the cries continued, he felt certain the crisis had passed.

  He leaned against the stair rail and then swiped a shaky hand across his face as the wails continued. One long, angry yelp after another ricocheted through the rooms downstairs. Finally, the cries began to subside and there was a moment of blessed silence.

  Then he heard Letty laugh.

  After what she’d been through, it was the last thing he would have expected to hear.

  He reached for the newel post as the echo of her laughter faded around him. He looked up—waiting for someone to give him the news.

  Moments later, Alice appeared at the head of the stairs with an oil lamp in her hand.

  “It’s a boy,” she said. “But if you ask me, I’m predicting here and now that he’s just a male version of his mother. Never heard so much complaining from a newborn in my life.”

  Robert Lee grinned.

  A boy.

  Then his smile slipped.

  Eulis would have been so proud.

  “Reckon I can come up?” he asked.

  “Oh. Yes… I almost forgot. Letty sent me to get you.”

  Robert Lee took the stairs two at a time, then smoothed his hands down the front of his shirt, wincing as he felt the dampness. He should have thought to change into dry clothes, but quickly abandoned the notion. He’d had them on so long that they were almost dry again.

  He entered the room behind Alice, his gaze going immediately to Letty.

  She was sitting up in the shadows, leaning against the headboard with the baby in her arms.

  “Come say hello,” she said.

  Robert Lee could have easier faced a man with a gun. If she’d asked him to strip naked in front of all these women, it wouldn’t have been any harder than it was to walk to her bed.