As she finished scrubbing the last face before sending them outside to play, one of David’s assistants approached her, looking harried. That seemed to be a common trait among everyone she’d seen the past few days. No doubt she would look the same by the end of the week.
“Carlotta is asking for you,” the young woman said. “She is in her room.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Oh, and she wants you to bring…” She mimicked holding something between her thumb and forefinger and made sweeping motions with her hand.
“Pencil and paper?” Leah guessed, wishing she had a better command of the language than she did. “Sí. Pencil and paper.”
“I’ll bring them,” she promised, before washing her hands thoroughly. If only she’d asked Sheldon to include a few gallons of waterless bacterial cleanser… Her skin was already chapped from the constant handwashing and harsh soap, but better to have rough hands than flu.
Inside Carlotta’s room and armed with the requested paper and pencil, she was amazed at how quickly the older woman’s condition had deteriorated. “Carlotta?” she whispered, lightly touching the woman’s shoulder. “You wanted to see me?”
Immediately the woman opened her eyes and struggled to smile. “Sí.”
“How are you feeling?” Leah asked. “Do you need any pain pills or—?”
Carlotta waved aside her question. “No. Tell me, Leah, what do you think of my little ones? Do you have what you call a soft spot for them?”
“I do,” she admitted, smiling. “They are special children, but you know that better than I.”
The older woman’s face held that soft, far-off expression, as if she were seeing into the past. “Their parents were special people, too.”
“I’m sure they were.”
“I want to tell you about them,” she said.
Surprised by the request, and also curious, Leah nodded. “I’d love to hear your story.”
“Write it down, please. So you do not forget.”
Now she understood Carlotta’s request, although why the woman would dictate her personal memories in English instead of in her native Spanish was a mystery. Rather than argue with the frail woman, she simply nodded and prepared to write.
“My son, Mario, was a beautiful baby and looked much as José does now,” Carlotta began. “We knew his wife’s family well, long before he and Jacinta took their vows. She was such a happy child and loved to sing and dance. Anna takes after her. Rosa…my Rosa is, what do you call it…?” She paused to think. “A mixture of both.”
“And because of that, all three are a comfort to you.”
“Ah, sí. That they are. Mario was such a busy boy and as a youth, he…”
For the next hour, Leah recorded everything Carlotta shared. By the time she’d finished her fifth page, Carlotta’s voice had faded. “We will continue tomorrow,” she said faintly.
“Of course.” Leah rose. “Rest now.” Before she could move away from the bed, Carlotta grabbed Leah’s arm in a surprisingly fierce grip.
“You will watch over my little ones?”
Leah didn’t have the heart to explain her stay in Ciuflores wouldn’t last longer than a week, and with their uncle presumably on his way it wouldn’t be necessary for long. However, she also understood the dying woman’s concern, so she folded Carlotta’s hand in hers. “Of course. We all will.”
Carlotta closed her eyes and nodded. “Come tomorrow.”
Suspecting she would continue her story, Leah nodded. “I’ll be here.”
“Padre.”
She paused. “Do you want Father David?”
At Carlotta’s weak nod, Leah said, “I’ll send him to you.”
Rosa was waiting for her outside Carlotta’s room, so Leah hoisted her on one hip as she searched out the priest. Fortunately, she found him in the chapel, on his knees. She would have tiptoed away to leave him to his prayers but Rosa began babbling and caught his attention.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she told him as he approached. “But I spent the last hour with Carlotta. She wants to see you.”
“Okay, I’ll drop by for a visit. How is she?”
“Weak.”
David nodded, his concern obvious in his eyes.
Leah blew a raspberry against the little girl’s neck, causing her to giggle. “Would you mind taking her?” she asked, passing Rosa to him. “I want to check on the boy who had surgery and Rosa doesn’t belong in the hospital.”
“Ah, yes. I heard about Tomas. How is he?”
“His surgery went well and now I want to monitor his post-op care. Not that your nurses aren’t doing a good job,” she hastened to explain, “but…”
He grinned. “But you want to see for yourself.”
Leah felt her face warm. “Yeah.”
“I’ll tell you what I told Gabe. Don’t bite off more than you can chew. We can’t afford for you and Gabe to follow in Hector’s footsteps.”
“I’ll be careful,” she promised.
Three days later, she finally admitted she had failed to keep her promise. She had tried to follow David’s advice—she really had—but there was so much to do and so little time. Between sick children at the orphanage, helping at the clinic, and playing with Carlotta’s grandchildren, her days didn’t end until she fell into bed each night and curled around Gabe for a few hours before the routine repeated itself.
Today, though, she had the added job of using her ER skills while Gabe tended a man with severe burns on his arms and face.
“Will you keep him here?” she asked Gabe after they left the fellow to rest.
“He’ll need skin grafts and surgical debridement, which is beyond what we can provide. According to Hector, there’s a town about a half a day’s drive away which is the equivalent of our county seat. They have a small hospital that’s better equipped than our clinic. One of his friends will deliver our patient and his wife there as soon as she packs a bag.”
“One thing you have to admit,” she mused aloud, “everyone in this community pulls together. They don’t have much, but what they do have, they’re willing to share.”
“You’ll find that attitude in a lot of places like this.”
She thought of something else he’d said. “You’d mentioned Hector. Is he feeling better?”
“Yeah, but he’s still weak. I told him to concentrate on regaining his strength because when we leave, he’ll need to run at peak efficiency.” He rubbed his whisker-darkened face, which obviously hadn’t felt a razor yet today and it was already mid-afternoon. “I don’t envy him at all.”
At first glance, her husband looked as perky as he always did, but she saw the tired set to his mouth and the faint smudges under his eyes. No doubt she probably looked worse.
“Why don’t you take a power nap?” she suggested. “Thirty minutes and you’ll feel like a new man.”
“As tempting as it sounds, I’ll have to take a rain check.”
“Okay.” She stood on tiptoe to deliver a kiss. “I’ll see you at dinner in about an hour.”
His face lit with curiosity, then satisfaction. “Count on it,” he said.
She’d just walked through the door and into what passed as a street when a teenage girl ran up to her. “Señora Gabriel,” she panted. “Come!”
Life in Ciuflores seemed to be one crisis after another. “What’s wrong?”
“The midwife…she is sick and my sister needs her. We must hurry.”
Surely she wasn’t asking Leah to deliver a baby! She turned toward the hospital. “I’ll get Dr. Ga—”
The girl tugged on her arm. “No time. We must go now.”
After casting a longing look at the building where her husband was probably dealing with his own crisis, Leah decided to accompany the girl and assess the situation.
The bungalow at the south end of the village was like so many others in its need for repairs and paint, but inside she soon realized she was caught in the middle of a situation she�
��d always hoped to avoid…the young mother, a girl of about eighteen, was fully dilated and moaning in pain, while her young husband appeared as if he wanted to join in.
Sensing the man would handle a task better than he seemed to handle his laboring wife, Leah sent him to the clinic with a message for Gabe.
Obviously grateful and eager for something to do, he ran out of the house while Leah turned to the younger sister. “Do you have hot water and blankets, um, what’s your name?”
“Isabella. My sister is Regina.”
“Okay, Isabella. Do you have the things I asked for?”
The girl bobbed her head. “Sí. They are ready from the last time.”
“The last time?” Leah echoed. It was comforting to know that Regina had gone through this before and wouldn’t be a stranger to what was about to happen. “She has another baby?”
“No. It was born dead.”
Oh, dear. No wonder both parents looked as if they were frightened out of their wits. The thought of being responsible for bringing their baby into the world with a history like that only added to Leah’s pressure.
She couldn’t cave in, though. She had to do this. While she wasn’t a midwife, her skills were better than nothing until Gabe arrived.
Unfortunately, while Leah washed her hands and changed the sheets with Isabella’s help, Regina’s contractions began to run into each other without stopping. Another look showed the baby’s head was crowning and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She only hoped there wouldn’t be any complications before Gabe galloped to the rescue.
She glanced at the door, willing him to suddenly save the day, but he didn’t. She was on her own.
“Okay, Regina,” she soothed as she positioned herself between the woman’s legs. “We’re going to do this. You’ll be fine and so will your baby. Are you hoping for a boy or a girl? I’m sure you don’t care, as long as it’s healthy,” she chattered on, mainly to draw Regina’s attention away from her pain. Although Leah had no idea if the young mother understood her or not, her soothing tone seemed to calm the stark fear in Regina’s eyes.
A mighty push later, and the baby’s head was free. While Leah suctioned out its nose and mouth, Gabe strode in.
“You seem to have everything under control,” he commented as he gently nudged Isabella out of the way to stand beside Leah.
“Thank heavens you’re here,” she said, relieved she didn’t have to do this alone. “You can take over.”
“You’re doing fine as you are,” he said, making no move to usurp her place. “I’ll look over your shoulder and talk you through the rest.”
He spoke to Regina in Spanish and as she bore down again, one tiny shoulder slipped out, then the other, until finally the little body glided into Leah’s hands, already wailing.
“Slippery little things, aren’t they?” he commented.
“Yeah.” It was an awesome moment, but she didn’t have time to revel in it. “You can tell her she has a daughter.”
The new mother leaned against the pillow, perspiring and obviously spent as she rattled on and on in Spanish.
Gabe answered calmly as he helped Leah cut the cord. “I told her the baby is fine,” he said. “She was worried.”
“Rightfully so. She lost her first baby. Stillbirth.”
Gabe washed his hands while refreshing her memory on cutting the cord. As soon as she’d finished, and he’d wrapped the baby in the blanket Isabella had provided, he handed her the infant.
“Score her Apgar and let Mom and Dad meet their daughter. I’ll finish up. You did great, by the way.”
“Regina did all the work,” she said. “I basically watched.”
After assessing the baby at a ten on the Apgar scale which evaluated her breathing, heart rate, color, muscle tone and response to stimuli, Leah diapered and bundled her up to meet her impatient parents.
Just as she was ready to carry the baby back across the room to Regina, Gabe stopped for a look. “You have the touch,” he commented. “She hasn’t complained at all about leaving her little nest.”
Leah grinned. “Not yet, anyway.”
“And look at all that black hair,” he commented. “I already see pigtails in her future.”
Leah smoothed down the spiky tufts and slid an inexpertly knitted cap over her head. “Between her mom and her aunt…” she smiled at a beaming Isabella “…pigtails, braids and ponytails won’t be a problem.”
After staying long enough to help Regina freshen up, recite a list of do’s and don’ts, and congratulate the new parents, she walked out of the two-room home with Gabe beside her.
“Are you ready to add ‘midwife’ to your résumé?” he teased.
“Not a chance,” she said. “I’m happy with heart attacks, gunshot wounds and stabbings. Those aren’t nearly as stressful. The entire time my hands were shaking and my knees wobbled.”
“You didn’t show it,” he said.
“You weren’t looking hard enough to see the signs,” she responded. “All I could think about was what if this baby didn’t survive, either? I didn’t want them to blame me for doing something wrong.”
Gabe couldn’t have asked for a better opening. “Did you blame me when you lost Andrew?”
She froze in her tracks. “Blame you? Why?”
“Because I wasn’t there when you started hemorrhaging.”
“No.” She began walking again. “You hadn’t gone on a trip for months and my obstetrician said everything was fine. If she didn’t anticipate a problem, why should you? Besides…” she grinned, as if remembering “…by then you were driving me crazy with all of your hovering and I didn’t see why you shouldn’t go.”
He saw her smile fade. “The question is,” she asked, “do you blame me?”
He frowned. “Why should I?”
“Because, ultimately, I’m responsible for what happened,” she whispered, staring straight ahead as if unable to meet his gaze.
“You just said your doctor believed everything was fine. Why do you think you were at fault?”
She shrugged. “Logically, I know what everyone told me, but I can’t help wondering if I’d done too much that morning. I’d wanted to prove to you that I might be pregnant but I wasn’t helpless. Maybe crawling on the ladder to change a light bulb tore something loose when I reached for the fixture—”
He hated hearing her sound so defeated. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a halt. “Stop that,” he scolded. “It wasn’t your fault. It could have happened if you’d been lying on the sofa all day.”
Her eyes shimmered. “I know that in my head, but in here…” she tapped her chest “…it’s still hard to accept. Especially when you acted as if you couldn’t bear to be around me. Which was why I thought you blamed me…”
“I felt helpless because I didn’t know how to break through your misery, but I never considered you at fault,” he insisted. “What happened was a tragedy, but a divorce wasn’t the solution.”
“Maybe not, but it would have allowed you to have the things you always wanted.”
“I have what I want, right here.”
“That’s sweet of you to say, Gabe.” She began walking and he matched his pace to hers.
“It’s true, not sweet,” he corrected.
She fell silent, as if sorting things through in her mind, and he didn’t interrupt.
“Do you think about them, Gabe?” she finally asked.
He hadn’t expected that question. “Nearly every day. Especially when I see children about the same ages as they would be now.”
“Really?” she sounded surprised. “You never mentioned a word or acted as if you gave them another thought.”
“You weren’t looking hard enough to see the signs.” He repeated her earlier comment, hoping it would jar her memory.
“I suppose not,” she answered ruefully.
“What about you? Do you think about them?”
“I do,” she said as she tucked her hands back into
her pockets. “I told myself I shouldn’t, but different things would happen or be said and I’d be reminded, especially if I heard of another Andrew or an Elizabeth.”
“You were going to call her Lizzie.”
“Yeah,” she said with a far-away expression on her face. “Of all the things we chose I had the most fun deciding on names. A name is so important to a child’s self-image.”
“It is,” he agreed. “Andrew John and Elizabeth Anne, with an ‘e’. ‘A special spelling for a special baby’, you said.”
For a long moment they walked in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable or oppressive. In fact, it seemed almost contemplative, as if it was finally okay to mention those names aloud.
“I didn’t want the divorce because I hated you,” she said without preamble. “Ending our marriage seemed like the best solution to a bad situation. You’d asked me before if I was trying to save you and, yes, I was. You’d done the same thing for me so many times and this was something I could do for you. I wanted you to be happy because subconsciously I loved you. How else could this trip have opened my eyes so quickly, unless the truth had been there all along, waiting for me to see it?”
“And now?” A combination of anticipation and dread made him unable to breathe.
“I still love you,” she repeated. “I want what we had before, even though I have trouble believing it’s within reach.”
His pulse skipped a beat. “Our future is yours for the taking,” he promised. “I’ll show you.”
“I want it all, Gabe. The love, the passion, the romance, the honesty, the sharing. Everything.”
“You’ll have it,” he said. “And then some.”
She stopped on the path leading to the orphanage’s front door. “I want our future to begin now, Gabe. Not when we get home, but now. I’m tired of feeling empty inside.”
He hesitated, not wanting to misinterpret. It would literally destroy him if they made love and she still demanded a divorce. “You said we wouldn’t make love because it clouded our issues. Does this mean I can shred those papers in my desk drawer?”
Six-Week Marriage Miracle Page 15
