Nancy Ann smiled. “Thank you. It was difficult, of course, but we did have the comfort of knowing he died for the right. If we had to lose him, at least it was for a good reason, and his sacrifice helped bring about a marvelous change in our nation.”
She felt, rather than saw, the muscles in Mr. Hancock’s back stiffen. “Your father fought for the Union?” he asked.
“Yes, he did.” She studied his face. “I presume from the tone of your voice that your father was part of the Confederacy.”
“That’s right, he was.”
“That only makes this slightly awkward.” Nancy Ann looked in the last room, jotted a note, and headed toward the stairs. “I’m sure I’ll be fine from here on out if you’d like to find something else to do, Mr. Hancock.”
“You’re dismissing me?”
She turned back around in time to see an incredulous look cross his face. “I need just a moment. It’s difficult for me to behave like I should when I’m reminded of the reason for my father’s passing.”
“I can imagine that, but surely you know that my father was in no way involved. The odds of that being the case are too astronomical to consider.”
“Of course, but the situation . . . the South’s refusal to acknowledge the humanity of the slaves . . . if it weren’t for that, so many good men would still be alive today.” She blinked back the sudden tears that had arisen. She was too busy for this—she had so much to do. Now was not the time to start thinking about her father and everything that had happened since then.
“I beg your pardon, Miss Morgan? Acknowledging the humanity of the slaves? That’s not . . . that doesn’t even represent . . .”
“Oh? What should I call it, then? Arrogance, in thinking you’re better than someone else because of the color of their skin? Ignorance, because you think one man can own another like property, like they have no free will? Which would you prefer? I’m sorry, Mr. Hancock, but I need to meet with Mrs. Brody to discuss room assignments. Perhaps you’d like to join Mr. Howard, and you can nurse your wounds together.” Nancy Ann raced down the stairs so quickly, she nearly tripped. She just had to get away from infuriating men.
Chapter Six
“I feel selfish, holding a wedding in the middle of all this chaos,” Sarah said as she threaded her fingers through Stephen’s. “We can wait. It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not all right,” Olivia said. “My husband and I fought our way here from three streets over. I’m just now starting to feel my toes again. You’re getting married tonight, and that’s all there is to it.”
“Well, all right then,” Steven said, and everyone who had gathered in the kitchen laughed.
Nancy Ann smiled as she poured herself some tea. She needed something warm to drink and knew she’d never sleep that night if she had any more coffee. “I think this is just what we need to liven things up,” she said. “And it would be a shame to waste your lovely wedding cake.”
“And you’ve got ever so many more guests than you first thought you’d have,” Grace added. “All right, so, most of them are total strangers and you’d never invite them under ordinary circumstances, but these aren’t ordinary circumstances.”
“So true.” Sarah looked around the room. “Thank you, all of you. I can’t believe you’re making all these sacrifices for me.”
“If I’d lost a toe to frostbite, I might have resented that, but since I didn’t, I’ll tell you that you’re welcome,” Olivia replied, and everyone laughed again.
As the sound of laughter died down, Nancy Ann heard a strange noise—it sounded like thunder, but that couldn’t possibly be right. All those gathered in the kitchen went motionless, and Mr. Brody walked over to the window and peered out. “We’re having a winter thunderstorm,” he said at last.
“What? I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Elizabeth joined him at the window.
“I have, but they’re extremely rare. Let’s all be grateful we’re warm and well and inside tonight.” Mr. Brody turned and put his arm around his wife’s shoulders, pulling her close.
Nancy Ann and Elizabeth spent the next thirty minutes getting everyone divided up into rooms. They managed to put the elderly in beds and the younger folks on the floor, which wasn’t ideal, but it was what had to be done. Laura took the last empty bed in the waitresses’ dormitory. Nancy Ann thought it fitting that the two pregnant women be near each other. And with another swirl of her pencil, she put Timothy Hancock in Mr. Howard’s room as well. They could both learn a thing or two from Tom White about what it meant to be a real man. Miss Hampton’s old room by the staircase had been quietly set aside for the bride and groom.
An hour later, after all the waitresses had been working furiously to rearrange furniture, clean, and change into their party dresses, it was time for the wedding. Nancy Ann had pinned several red cloth roses in her hair, wanting to look more festive than she felt. She disliked losing her temper, and she felt sorry for yelling at both Mr. Howard and Mr. Hancock, although she knew she was right. She would never back down in her position on either point. She was just sorry that it had come to yelling.
Pastor Osbourne stood at the head of the dining room, fifty faces turned toward him. Then someone in the back of the room gasped, and everyone craned their necks to see. Sarah had entered the room in a gown of purest white, a veil of lace across her features. Nancy Ann knew her ensemble had been her cousin Felicity’s, brought from Denver on the train along with all the other luggage.
Stephen, wearing a suit borrowed from Mr. Brody, stood next to the pastor, tears in his eyes that he allowed to remain there unchecked. He gazed upon his bride with so much love, Nancy Ann found herself choking up as well. Of course, at that moment, it wouldn’t have taken much of anything at all to make her cry like a baby. For all her appearance of being in control, she felt very vulnerable all of a sudden.
After Pastor Osbourne said the time-honored words linking them together as husband and wife, Stephen and Sarah shook hands and gave hugs all around, and then the waitresses served up the wedding cake. Sarah had done a beautiful job making it, and it tasted as good as it looked. Nancy Ann stood in the corner to enjoy her slice, as all the chairs in the dining room were taken, and Mr. Howard sidled up to her.
“I owe you a rather large apology,” he said. “I hope you’ll be able to forgive me for my selfishness.”
“I did get your message from Mr. Hancock,” she replied. “I was glad to hear it, but I’m not entirely sure you meant it. Most people don’t overcome their ignorance so quickly.”
He inclined his head. “You’re right, and I’m sure there are a great many things I’m still ignorant about. Would you be willing to sit with me a bit and help me figure out what those things might be?”
Nancy Ann chuckled. “I beg your pardon—you want me to help you create a list of all your faults?”
“It couldn’t hurt, and if I could identify my failings, I’d have a better chance at overcoming them, wouldn’t I?’
Nancy Ann shook her head before he even stopped speaking. “That’s neither my right nor my responsibility,” she said. “I suggest you write in your journal after some deep contemplation. I understand that journals are marvelous for helping people sort things out in their minds. And if you’ll excuse me, I need to help clean up now.”
“But what if I don’t have a journal? Would you really leave me to my own devices?”
Nancy Ann held back a sigh. “Mr. Howard, I think that’s exactly where I should leave you.”
***
The hotel was finally quiet except for the sound of the wind outside. It had taken a bit of coordinating to get everyone settled in, some using clothing from their satchels instead of blankets, but by the time midnight came around, it was still and serene. Nancy Ann rolled onto her back to stretch out her muscles. What a long, eventful, stressful day it had been. With any luck, the weather would break during the night, but the wind certainly didn’t sound like it was giving up anytime soon.
When Nancy Ann heard a gasp, she thought it was just another gust making its way across the roof, but then she heard another, and she sat bolt upright in bed.
“What’s the matter?” she asked in the darkness.
“I . . . I need help,” came Laura’s voice.
Nancy Ann threw back her covers and ran over to the woman’s bed. Giselle lit a lamp, Ruth grabbed another, and they gathered around.
“What’s the matter? Are you having pains?” Nancy Ann asked.
“Yes, but something more.” It didn’t take two lamps to see that Laura was bleeding heavily.
“It’s all right,” Nancy Ann said even as she mentally ran through the list of guests at the hotel that night. There wasn’t a doctor in the bunch. “I’ve actually helped deliver babies.”
“And so have I,” Giselle added. “Nancy Ann and I both come from huge families. You’re in good hands.”
“I’ll get some water on the stove,” Grace called out as she headed for the stairs. “And I’ll get some linens, too.”
“Everything’s going to be all right.” Giselle gave Laura a warm smile, then turned and tugged Nancy Ann’s arm.
Over in the corner, Giselle whispered, “There’s too much blood. I don’t know why.”
“Maybe she just has thin blood and tends to bleed a lot. Some women are just that way,” Nancy Ann replied. “Let’s make her comfortable and see what happens from there.”
Harriet had already gotten Laura into a semi-sitting position with a couple of pillows behind her back, and a moment later, Elizabeth came up the stairs.
“Grace told me we were having some excitement up here,” she said cheerfully. “I’ve heard that babies like to be born in storms.”
“But this . . . this is the worst possible time,” Laura said around a gasp. “I’m supposed to be with my husband.”
“Oh, I don’t think there’s any such thing as ‘supposed to,’” Elizabeth replied. “Fate has her own agenda, and she’s the one who decides what will and won’t happen. Let’s see what she has in store for you tonight.”
As the women worked to help make Laura more comfortable, Giselle, who had far more experience than Nancy Ann, prepared to deliver the baby. After a moment, though, she sat back with a worried look on her face. “Laura, I need you to relax as much as you can, all right? Don’t push, don’t move—we need to try to slow everything down.” Then she turned to Elizabeth and Nancy Ann. “The placenta appears to have grown partially in the way.”
Nancy Ann knew immediately what that meant—almost certain death for both Laura and her baby. Only a skilled physician would do, and even at that, the odds were simply horrible. Chills ran down her arms and her spine. No—this couldn’t be happening. She just couldn’t bear it.
“Dr. Wayment’s out of town,” Elizabeth whispered.
Nancy Ann closed her eyes. She had no idea what to do—Dr. Wayment didn’t trust the other doctors who lived nearby, but they clearly needed one.
“Who’s closest?” she asked.
“Probably Dr. Johnson—but Nancy Ann, you can’t be thinking of sending someone for him.” Elizabeth stood up and took her off to the side just as Giselle had done. “It’s far too dangerous out there—what if the thunder starts up again, and brings lightning down on you? And what guarantees do we have that the doctor could save her? Isn’t it best for us to do the best we can? You and Giselle are both experienced, and—”
“I am experienced. I’m far more experienced than I want to be.” Nancy Ann took a deep breath. Her heart was pounding so hard, she was almost lightheaded. “I have a sister just a year younger than me. She married very young and they were expecting a baby almost immediately. When it came time for her to deliver, she nearly bled to death. I tried everything, but nothing worked. When the doctor came, he yelled at me, said I’d all but killed her. Please, Elizabeth—we need a doctor. And I’ll be the one to go.”
Elizabeth’s eyes flew wide open. “No. No, I can’t let you. It’s suicide even to think of it.”
“But it’s murder not to try.” She reached out and caught Elizabeth’s hand. “Please let me do this. We can’t say that my life is more important than hers—that’s simply not the case.”
“We have no guarantee that she can be saved,” Elizabeth replied. She shook her head, letting out a small groan. “I don’t know what to do, Nancy Ann. I see what you’re saying, but I also see the danger. Let’s do this. I’ll run downstairs and talk to Adam. You wake up Tom. We need their input—you and I are both too biased to think reasonably. But I tell you this—you’re not going alone.”
Nancy Ann nodded. She knew she was making a very foolish suggestion, but she wouldn’t compound it further by venturing out solo. Of course, if something bad were to happen, it would happen to her companion as well as to her. She wouldn’t think about that. There wasn’t time to consider all the variables.
She threw a shawl around her shoulders and trotted down the stairs, where she knocked on the door to room one. As she hoped, it was Tom who opened the door.
“One of our passengers is having her baby,” she said softly, hoping she wouldn’t wake everyone up and down the hall. “She’s in trouble and needs a doctor. Can you come downstairs and consult with Mr. Brody?”
“Be right there.” Tom closed the door, and Nancy Ann headed for the staircase. Every minute they spent in discussion was another minute that would bring Laura closer to death. She’d put on her outerwear and be ready so that as soon as she got permission, she could leave immediately.
“Take my scarf,” Grace said, putting it in Nancy Ann’s hand. “And here’s my hat. I’d give you my coat, but one of Felicity’s children is sleeping on it.”
“I’ll be all right,” Nancy Ann told her. “Thank you.”
Each of the other girls lent her something until she was quite sure she’d have a hard time walking for all the layers. She ran back down the stairs, carrying the odd assortment, ready to put everything on, and found not only Tom and Mr. Brody deep in conversation, but Mr. Howard and Mr. Hancock as well.
“My wife tells me you’re absolutely determined,” Mr. Brody said, placing both hands on Nancy Ann’s shoulders and looking at her seriously.
“I am, sir. I have to try.”
“I’m against it, and I could lock you in your room and refuse to let you go, but I understand this is a choice you have to make.” He looked in her eyes another minute, nodded once, and stepped back. “You’re not going alone.”
“I know that, sir. I’m not sure who to take, though.”
Mr. Brody motioned toward Mr. Howard and Mr. Hancock. “Both these men have volunteered to go.”
She looked at them incredulously. “What?”
“We came downstairs with Tom, heard the situation, and we’re going,” Mr. Hancock said. “No time to argue with us. Let’s be on our way—but we’re not going to Dr. Johnson’s. I know another doctor who’s closer. He’s new in town.”
“All right, let’s go,” Nancy Ann said, heading for the door. At this point, she didn’t care which doctor they fetched, as long as they got one.
“God go with you,” Mr. Brody said as they opened the door and stepped out into the swirling snow. “You’re going to need Him.”
Chapter Seven
Timothy held his lantern high, trying to cast light onto their path ahead. It worked to a certain extent, but the wind kept picking up the snow and swirling it around, and that was highly irritating.
“Where are we going?” Mr. Howard shouted.
“Two streets over and four streets down,” Timothy replied. He hoped he’d remember which house it was when they got there—he’d bang on the neighbors’ doors and ask directions if need be.
Miss Morgan trudged along beside him, her head down, her steps determined. Why had she been so insistent on this errand? Surely she could have stayed at the hotel while Timothy and Mr. Howard went. It seemed wrong, bringing a woman along on a journey that at the very least was bound to be dan
gerous. And yet, here she was, trailing her hand along the fences of the houses they passed. That was a good idea, except that not all of the houses had fences.
Mr. Howard was certainly a mystery. Why had he decided to come along? He wasn’t trying to get in Miss Morgan’s good graces, was he? Timothy clenched his jaw. That had to be it. Well, it would take more than a traipse through the snow for Miss Morgan to forgive him—her whole demeanor had proven that.
But Timothy wasn’t faring any better with her. She’d become angry so quickly when she discovered his father was a Confederate soldier—she hadn’t even let him explain. Of course, she’d been very busy at the moment, but she didn’t act like she’d be willing to discuss it later, either.
The more he thought about that, the more frustrated he became. She’d said her piece, and he’d listened, but he hadn’t been given the chance to do the same. Where was the fairness in that? Weren’t his opinions valid?
“I believe we’ve reached the corner,” Miss Morgan called out. “We should turn here.”
Timothy held the lantern higher and looked around. “I think you’re right.”
They crossed the street three abreast, each holding their hands out straight in hopes that they would touch the fence of the house on the opposite side. Mr. Howard, on the left, found it, and Timothy reached out and caught Miss Morgan’s arm before she wandered too far right. He was doing everything he could to fight the fear that was licking at his heart. Would Laura even survive long enough for the doctor to come?
It seemed the easiest way to ignore the fear was to concentrate on the anger, so he went back to that. Yes, anger. Anger at Miss Morgan for thinking she was the only one who had any right to speak. A gentleman shouldn’t interrupt a lady, so he’d let her go on and on—well, that’s what he got for being polite! And now she was probably over there thinking she had him right where she wanted him. She didn’t. Not at all!
The Calm of Night (Kansas Crossroads Book 10) Page 4
