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Mercer's Belles

Page 16

by Heather B. Moore


  “Is that bad?” Sally asked.

  “It is preferred that babies are born face down. They move better down the birth canal, and there’s less pressure in the mother’s back.”

  “Can you fix it?”

  “I can try to turn the baby, but . . .”

  “But what?” Sally breathed, her face growing pale.

  “It’s better with two experienced midwives. One helping from the inside and one on the outside.”

  “Can I do it?” Sally asked, quickly looking at her sister’s belly.

  “Perhaps, but . . .” Get Albert. He offered help. Use it! “Sally, I need you to go get Dr. Cunningham.”

  Sally and Pearl both went rigid. After a tense moment, Sally whispered, “We can’t. He’ll tell Mercer.”

  “He won’t tell. But Mercer is going to find out soon enough anyway. I need Albert’s help.” Cora gave Sally a significant look, silently communicating how dire the moment had become.

  Sally blinked a few times. “Are you sure?”

  “It’s what’s best for Pearl. She’s nearly spent. We must get the baby out soon.”

  Sally swallowed hard, got to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”

  Albert stood at the exam table, checking the bandage on the worst of the frostbite victims. The surface of the fingers was mottled and dotted with several swollen blisters. But the skin would recover. He was about to announce this good news to the sailor when a woman burst in the room.

  “Dr. Cunningham!”

  Albert spun around. It was the same woman who’d come for Cora in the saloon. His pulse quickened. “What’s wrong?”

  “Cora—Nurse Martin. She . . . needs your help. Right away.”

  Albert left the sailor blinking in surprise, grabbed his doctor’s bag, and gestured to the woman to lead the way. They ran through the halls, heads and whispers turning their way. The woman stopped at a stateroom door, looked around, and then swept him inside. He took in the sight of Cora standing next to a young woman, a child, really, who was lying on her side, sweating and moaning. Cora rubbed at the girl’s low back and murmured comfort. At the sound of the door, Cora looked back over her shoulder.

  Albert crossed the room in two strides. “What can I do?”

  “Have you ever turned a baby?” Cora asked.

  Albert winced. “No. But I can if you’ll guide me.”

  “The baby is lying face up and needs to be face down. We have to roll her over. I’ll manipulate the head from inside. I need you to help the body follow by pushing on Pearl’s belly.”

  Albert put down his bag. “All right. Is there—” He saw the wash basin and quickly washed his hands.

  Cora turned to her patient. “All right, Pearl, this will be uncomfortable, but once it’s done things will go much better. Okay?”

  Pearl, eyes mashed shut, only nodded. Albert wondered how long they’d been at it. From the disheveled, exhausted look of all three women it must have started soon after he saw Cora in the kitchen last night.

  Cora positioned herself at Pearl’s legs. Albert stepped up to the side of the small bed. “Hello, Pearl. I’m Dr. Cunningham.”

  Pearl, eyes opening a slit, gave a weak smile. “You’re as handsome and tall as she said.”

  Albert smiled back, a warm flush of heat moving through his chest. He looked briefly at Cora, who avoided his eyes. He said, “Let’s help this baby come out, shall we?”

  Pearl nodded.

  Albert turned his full attention to Cora, unable to stop the rush of admiration when he saw the look of focused determination on her face. He put his hands on Pearl’s tiny belly; it hardly seemed big enough. “Is she early?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Cora answered quickly, her quick look telling him just how much she was concerned for the young woman. “She had swelling of her feet, a bad headache, nausea, irregular pulse.”

  Albert blinked, understanding blooming as tension in his neck. “I feel the child. I’m ready when you are.”

  Cora nodded. “Pearl, grip the sheets tightly and try not to move. Breathe through it. Sally—” The other woman positioned herself next to Albert, kneeling down to put her face near Pearl’s.

  “All right, sister,” Sally said. “Look at me and just keep breathing. You can do this.”

  “But Mama . . . she . . .”

  Sally’s face fell. “No, Pearl, no. You’re not Mama. Don’t even think that. You’re going to be just fine.”

  Albert’s heart went out to the sisters. How terrifying it must be to be a woman giving birth.

  How strong they are. How amazing.

  “Albert, are you ready?” Cora called back his attention.

  He met her eyes. “Yes.”

  “Carefully, toward you. You must be gentle but firm. Only working between her pains. And now . . . slowly . . .”

  Albert felt the shift Cora initiated and followed it, applying firm pressure to the infant’s shoulders through the thick barrier of Pearl’s belly. Pearl gritted her teeth, a scream trapped behind them. Sally whispered comfort.

  “Good,” Cora breathed. “Keep going. A little more.”

  It was both harder and easier than Albert expected to turn the child. Would they injure the baby, the mother? He was certain his hands would leave bruises. He watched Cora closely, matching her effort and movements. The little flutters of tension around her eyes seemed to tell him everything she was thinking.

  “A little more . . .” Cora whispered.

  Pearl let out a guttural scream. “No more!” She huffed. “Please!”

  “All done!” Cora announced. Albert instantly retracted his hands, took a step back. A birthing pain immediately followed. Cora added, “Pearl, it’s time to push. Come on. Work to do.”

  Pearl gritted her teeth, face red with effort.

  “Good girl!” Cora cheered. “Baby is moving down much better now. On the next pain, big push. All your might!”

  Albert watched in a haze of wonder as Cora soothed and commanded and as Pearl struggled and triumphed. He’d only assisted on one other birth in his first years of medical school. The mother had been under the influence of ether, a newer practice, and the attending doctor had used forceps to pull the baby free. But this . . . this primal, glorious battle . . .

  No wonder so many women die. Please, God, help Cora and young Pearl.

  Pearl pushed again and again, for what seemed like an age but may have been only an hour. Albert had to remind himself not to hold his breath in anticipation. Cora was tireless, never wavering. And suddenly, there was a tiny baby in her arms, slick with blood and birthing fluids. Cora rubbed the little chest, and a strong cry burst forth from the infant.

  First breath.

  They all laughed in relief. “It’s a girl!” Cora announced. “Healthy and strong, even if she is a bit small.” She quickly wrapped the child in a white knitted blanket and laid her on her mother’s chest. Pearl and Sally were both crying and cooing at the infant, who’d settled the moment she felt her mother’s skin. Her big deep-blue eyes were wide open, taking in her new world. A smear of reddish hair adorned her head.

  Cora went to the basin to wash her hands. Albert looked at her back, at the tension in her shoulders, the damp curls of hair at her neck. When she finished washing she didn’t turn around but instead opened the porthole and leaned toward it to suck in long breaths. Albert went to her, pulling her into his arms. She let him take her weight and tucked her head against his chest. Her arms came around his waist, and quiet sobs escaped her throat.

  He held her tighter.

  A hesitant knock came at the door. Cora jolted away from Albert, immediately missing his solid warmth. She looked to Sally and Pearl, who stared at the door; Pearl gripped her baby closer. They all exchanged a worried look.

  Albert, seeing their anxiety, said, “I’ll talk to whomever it is,” and went to the door. “Conant?”

  “Doc? What are you doing here? I have three women telling me stories of the sound of baby cries coming from this
room. What’s going on?”

  Albert angled his body, blocking the reporter’s view of the room with himself and the door. Cora went to the bed and sat at Pearl’s feet. “It’ll be all right,” she whispered. Please let it be all right. She swiped at her wet cheeks, adjusted her rumpled dress.

  Albert said, “Roger, I need you to be very discreet about what I’m going to tell you.”

  “Of course,” he answered, voice low and sincere.

  “A young woman has given birth. The baby and mother are fine and under my care.”

  “Goodness, Cunningham. A baby? I assume Mercer doesn’t know. He’ll—”

  “Doesn’t know what? What’s this about a baby?” Mercer’s voice cut into the conversation. Cora jerked in surprise, her hand reaching for Sally’s. Albert’s hand on the edge of the door tensed.

  “Mr. Mercer,” Albert began. “All is well.”

  “So a woman gave birth on my ship? One of my virgins? How can this be?” The man’s voice pitched louder with each question. “This will tarnish my reputation. This will—”

  “This has nothing to do with you, sir,” Albert cut in, his rock-solid authority coming into his voice. “A young widow gave birth to a child. She and her sister are traveling to Seattle to find husbands, just like the rest of your group.”

  Cora nodded. The right lies. Good, Albert.

  Mercer huffed. “But I should have known! Even if she is a widow.”

  “Why? How is this your concern? The young woman’s condition was her and her doctor’s business alone. I knew, as the doctor, and that’s all that matters.”

  Cora tightened her grip on Sally’s hand. They exchanged a shocked look. “He can’t take responsibility for this,” Cora whispered. “Mercer might kick him off the ship.” Sally only shook her head in response.

  Mercer huffed out an exasperated breath. “I didn’t promise those men in the West women and children. This is appalling. Does Dr. Barnard know about this?”

  “No. I chose not to tell him.”

  “So you didn’t tell your supervisor or me? How dare you, Cunningham!”

  “I did what I thought was best for the young lady.”

  Cora couldn’t stand it a moment longer. She jumped up and rushed to the door, ignoring Sally’s whimper of warning. She ducked under Albert’s arm. “It’s my fault, Mr. Mercer. I attended the mother. Dr. Cunningham didn’t know until an hour ago when I needed his assistance to save her and her baby’s life.” Mercer blinked at her, confused. Albert put his hand around her upper arm, a warning. She ignored him.

  Dr. Barnard came rushing down the hall, pushing through the crowd that had gathered. “What’s the problem here?” he demanded.

  Mercer turned to him, face red. “This troublesome nurse and your assistant just delivered a baby on my ship. One of my young ladies now has a baby!”

  “These women do not belong to you, Mercer,” Cora spat back. “She and her sister are seeking a better life. Fleeing a dangerous situation. You have no right to interfere.”

  Dr. Barnard glared at her. “I told you that you were not allowed to participate in the medical situations on this ship.”

  “Tell me, Doctor, how many babies have you delivered?” Cora’s heart punched her ribs so hard it hurt, but she would not back down.

  Barnard flinched. “I do not have to justify myself—”

  “Well, I’ve delivered over seven hundred,” Cora cut in.

  All the men balked in surprise. Albert was the first to speak, his thumb stroking the back of her arm. “Mrs. Martin was the only person aboard this ship qualified to deal with this matter.”

  Cora felt a surge of gratitude. “I will continue to monitor the child and the mother. They need not bother any of you.”

  Mercer’s scowl deepened. “I want them all off the ship. When we dock in Brazil, I want all of you gone.”

  “You cannot do that!” Cora argued. “They won’t survive there. They need knowledgeable care for at least three months, to ensure everything is all right.”

  “Then the baby and mother stay, under the care of the doctors. But you, Mrs. Martin, you may leave my ship.” Mercer pointed a trembling finger at her face.

  Cora’s stomach dropped to the floor. Even though she’d suspected this might happen, her throat went dust-dry in an instant.

  Will I survive there, in a foreign land?

  Without Albert.

  Albert’s hand dropped from her arm, and he stepped in front of her, closing the distance between him and Mercer. Mercer’s jaw clenched as he looked up. “Don’t try to intimidate me, Cunningham. I’m in charge of this voyage.”

  “Then be a leader, not a fool, Mercer. Mrs. Martin has done nothing but offend your and Barnard’s egos.”

  “How dare you!” Barnard cut in.

  “She performed those excellent stitches the first day. She and I treated all the sick during that first week, while the two of you hid in your rooms. Cora and I were there at the railing when Foster went over. Where were you? And now Cora has saved this young lady’s life and brought a new baby into the world. Why would you deprive your ship and passengers of such a valuable asset? Of two valuable assets—because if she goes I go.”

  Mercer scoffed. There was a tense pause. “Fine. We don’t need you. Dr. Barnard can handle everything.”

  “Really?” Albert turned his head in Barnard’s direction. “Did you know, Mr. Mercer, that your valiant doctor hasn’t seen one patient?”

  “What do you mean?” Mercer asked, looking over his shoulder at his doctor.

  “I mean that I’m certain Barnard is either not a doctor or incredibly lazy.”

  A gasp sounded from the gathered crowd. Mercer swung around to face Barnard. “What is he talking about?”

  Barnard’s face turned apple red; he backed up a step. “I am a doctor . . . of sorts. I’m a . . . dentist.”

  “A dentist! So you lied to me?” Mercer spat. “All those qualifications you spouted?”

  “All in dentistry, not medical. I wanted to go west; there’s so much opportunity. I didn’t think it would matter, especially with a capable assistant. I—”

  Mercer’s hand flew up to stop further explanation. “That’s enough. I’ve had enough for one night. Barnard, you and your wife will disembark in Brazil. Cunningham, you’re now the head and only doctor on this ship.”

  “Only if Mrs. Martin is my nurse.”

  Mercer cut a glance at her, frowned. He threw up his hands. “Fine. If you think it’s best. But I don’t want to be bothered about this baby. I don’t want it making chaos of this ship. Women lose all reason around babies.”

  “You won’t be bothered, Mr. Mercer,” Cora assured him. She felt weak in the knees.

  Mercer spun on his heel. “I’m going to my room, and I’m not to be disturbed,” Mercer boomed. Barnard trailed after him, begging. Mercer yelled back at him, “I’m sure the good people of Brazil can use a fine dentist who thinks so highly of himself. You’ll be fine.”

  “But my wife, Mercer. She’ll be furious.”

  “Not my problem!”

  The two men disappeared around the corner, along with most of the onlookers, who wanted to follow the drama. Albert, Cora, and Roger were left alone outside Sally and Pearl’s room. Cora put a hand to her stomach, a flood of emotions making her dizzy.

  Roger was the first to speak. “Well, that was loads of fun. I never liked that Barnard fellow. And his wife . . .” He rolled his eyes. “Brazil will certainly humble them both.” He laughed lightly. “At least Mercer’s erraticism worked in our favor this time. Nicely done, Cunningham. Oh, I can’t wait to write about this.”

  Cora was only vaguely aware of what Roger had said or his attention now. She was staring at Albert in utter surprise. He stared back. “You . . . why did you do that?” she asked.

  Albert held her gaze. “Because it was the right thing to do.”

  “No one has ever . . .” She couldn’t finish the sentence. Tears slipped down her hot ch
eeks. “You really want me to be your nurse?”

  Albert stepped closer. “No, I want you to be my partner.”

  Chills raced up her spine, lifting goose bumps along her skin. “What?” she breathed.

  “You are as good a surgeon as I am. Better in some ways. So I propose this: when we get to Seattle, you and I open a practice together, equal partners.”

  She went cold from head to toe. “Truly? Albert, are you sincere, because . . .” Sudden fear gripped her. No, this is too good to be true.

  He took another step closer, nearly touching her. “I’ve never been more sincere in my life. You are a miracle, and I want you working by my side. But there is one thing we must do first.”

  Cora’s stomach tightened. Her breath came in small gasps as she looked up at him. “What is that?” she murmured.

  “We must go to the captain right now and be married.” His eyes roamed down her body and back to her eyes. “Because there are some things that can’t wait until we get to Seattle.”

  In one swift movement, Albert pulled her into his arms and crushed his lips to hers. Insistent passion poured out of him, which Cora answered with equal enthusiasm. Her hands came to his neck, pulling him closer.

  “Whoa, my friends!” Roger laughed. “Sorry to interrupt, but I feel it my duty to make sure that proposed marriage actually happens before you two drop to the floor right here in the hall.” He laughed again.

  Cora reluctantly pulled back from Albert, meeting his heated gaze. He smiled, and she started to laugh, all the exhaustion, relief, and joy bubbling out of her. He kissed her forehead. “Roger, you’re a valuable friend,” Albert teased, his eyes still on Cora.

  Roger clapped Albert on the back, much like the first day they’d all met. “And now I’ll be your best man. Off we go! Let’s get you two married.”

  May 29, 1866

  Seattle

  Cora and Albert stood on the dock, looking back at the Continental. Cora had hoped that stepping onto that ship would change her life, but she never imagined just how much. She lifted her gaze to her husband, her partner. He was everything she never believed she’d have and more. She imagined that the little orphan girl inside her finally had a reason to jump for joy and shed her melancholy shell.

 

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