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Soon, Ava came downstairs smiling. “It’s
showing. Should only be a few more minutes.” She took a pot of
boiling water back up with her, so Caleb wouldn’t think that his
water-boiling efforts were in vain.

“What’s showing?” Caleb asked.

Jon laughed and put a hand on his shoulder.
“C'mon, Caleb. You know how this works.”

Caleb paced the kitchen, now mumbling to
himself.

“It’s been too quiet,” he muttered anxiously.
“What if something went wrong?”

“I’m sure it’s fine, Caleb,” Aryl reassured.
“They’ll call you as soon as it’s born.” Everyone looked at the
ceiling as there was a loud commotion and a blood curdling scream
from Arianna.

“I need to be in there.” Caleb made for the
stairs.

“Now, son, I think it best if you just let
the women do what they know how to do. You’ll just be in the way.
They’ll call you when he’s here.”

It was the first full sentence Hubert had
spoken to Caleb since their arrival. Caleb turned and asked
sarcastically, “Oh, are you speaking to me?”

“Yes. And I’m telling you to let the women
be. They know how to handle this.”

“That’s my wife and child up there.”

Arianna let out another guttural scream.
Caleb looked up at the ceiling. “How many damn times growing up did
you wake me up in the middle of the night to help with a calving?
If it was important for me to be there for the birth of a cow or a
horse, don’t you think maybe it’s important for me to be there for
the birth of my own son?” He didn’t wait for a reply, but ran up
the stairs.

“Darn kids and their newfangled ideas, being
in the room during a woman’s labor. Humph.” Hubert crossed his arms
indignantly.

Caleb let himself in the room and ignored the
midwife’s minor protests. He stood beside the bed. Arianna looked
too weak to continue.

“Caleb, with the next pain, sit her up as
high as you can.” A second later, he lifted her and they all yelled
for Arianna to push as hard as she could while the midwife counted.
The midwife blew some hair out of her own face and wiped her
forehead with a bloody sleeve.

“This should be it,” she panted.

And it was.

With one more gut wrenching push, Samuel
Robert slipped out of his mother and onto the bed. Arianna lay back
gasping, and Caleb stared at the little blue and white baby as the
midwife cleared his mouth and smacked his bottom, causing him to
let out a piercing cry. Caleb laughed with relief, and the midwife
held him up for Arianna to see.

“He’s perfect,” Caleb said, smiled wide and
kissed Arianna on the forehead. “Just perfect.”

“His arm is a bit bruised,” the midwife
pointed out. “But not broken. It will heal.” She handed him to
Caleb, who knelt by the side of the bed and laid the baby between
himself and Arianna.

“You should try to get him to nurse. He’s
probably hungry.” The midwife smiled down on the three, pleased
with her efforts that most likely saved both mother and child.
Caleb helped Arianna reposition herself, and she cuddled Samuel
close. He latched on without any help or prodding and began to
nurse ferociously.

“Goodness. That was easy,” Arianna said, her
voice weak but happy. Caleb helped pull her bedraggled hair back
and washed her face and neck with a cool cloth. She leaned her head
back to enjoy the relaxing moment. The room was quiet except for
the small grunts and slurps of the newborn nursing.

Suddenly Arianna’s head pulled forward and
she grunted.

“That’s the afterbirth. It’s not near as bad
as labor pains,” the midwife reassured a newly frightened Caleb as
Arianna eased down off the contraction. Without warning, another
pain overtook her causing her arms to go limp. Caleb scooped Samuel
up. The midwife lifted the sheet, and her eyes bulged. “Oh my God,”
she whispered.

“What! What’s wrong?” Caleb yelled out in
confusion as Arianna yelled out in pain and Samuel yelled out in
hunger.

“There’s another baby!”

“What?!” the room cried out in unison.

“I don’t know why I didn’t see. Claire,
hurry, get me more towels!” The whole room burst into a flurry of
activity, as one contraction surged into another, hardly allowing
Arianna time to catch her breath. Aryl and Jonathan stood in the
hallway, listening, hands in pockets and heads lowered in
concern.

“How can there be another baby!” Caleb cried
over Samuel’s intense, choppy wails.

“She’s having twins!” the midwife snapped
impatiently, motioning Kathleen and Margaret on each side to hold
Arianna’s legs. Caleb looked helplessly between the howling baby in
his arms and Arianna.

Ava took the baby. “Help Arianna,” she said,
worried he was so frightened he very well might drop Samuel.

“Is there anything we can do?” Aryl asked
into the small opening of the door. Ava walked into the hall and
handed Aryl the baby.

“Hold him,” she ordered and hurried back into
the room. Arianna’s grunts and cries were near constant, but she
couldn’t rise with each contraction any longer. The midwife yelled
for towels and twine. Caleb dropped to his knees, kissed Arianna’s
hand, and felt completely useless.

“Caleb! Get up! You have to help push the
baby out,” the midwife shouted.

“What!” he cried with owlish eyes.

“She doesn’t have the strength to do this.”
He slipped an arm behind her to push her upright, but the midwife
stopped him. “It doesn’t matter if she sits up if she has no more
strength to push!” she yelled. “Here, when I say push, push here.”
She positioned his hands at the top of her stomach, and Caleb
braced himself, waited for the cue. Arianna lay with her head
rolled to the side, only the peak of the pains stirring her to
light consciousness now.

“Push!” Caleb gave a little downward pressure
and the midwife yelled for more. “A little more, Caleb, you’re
doing fine, keep it up.” Sweat rolled down his temples, and
although he was hyperventilating, he felt like he was
suffocating.

“Here it is!” the midwife yelled with relief.
Caleb saw a tiny scalp covered in white balm tinged with blood
begin to crown before receding again. A moment later, almost
effortlessly this time, the babe glided into the waiting and warm
hands of the midwife.

“It’s a girl,” Caleb whispered. “Ahna, it’s a
girl.”

Arianna was unconscious and breathing long
and deep. The midwife worked quickly, clearing the airway, rubbing
the little body to aide circulation, and tying the cord. The room
fell silent as everyone waited for the cry. The babe was lifeless
and silent; blue, flaccid limbs splayed open. The midwife’s face
was set in stone, determined not to lose this child. She rubbed the
baby furiously, cleared the little airway twice, but the little
girl still appeared lifeless. Grasping the infant by the ankles,
she held it high in front of her.

The second smack on its bottom was much
harder than the first, and the baby sucked in a ragged breath and
let out a piercing scream. The whole room exhaled in relief, and
Caleb sunk to his knees by the bed with his head in his hands. The
midwife swaddled the baby, who was smaller than her twin, and
handed her with shaking hands to Caleb. She had a tuft of raven,
black hair and her mother’s pointy nose. He smiled with incredulous
wonder at the little surprise and then panicked.

“Wait!” he called out, frightened, his eyes
searching the room. “Where’s the other one?”

Ava laughed and said, “Aryl has him. I’ll go
get him.” She poked her head out to see Aryl in the hall with
Samuel sleeping on his shoulder as he patted his little back and
paced with a light bounce.

“Aryl, you can bring him in now,” she said
softly. He made his way to the door with the slow bounce-walk.
Jonathan pushed off the wall opposite the door and hugged Ava.

“That was intense,” he whispered.

“Yeah. And it was worse in there,” she
teased. “But they’re both here and healthy. It’s a good day,” she
said and smiled, glancing back at the door.

“Are you scared?” he asked, with a nod to her
stomach.

“Terrified,” she spoke wide-eyed with a
smile.

“Will you let me be with you? When it’s
time?” he asked timidly.

“I expect you to be with me,” she said
quietly and seriously, meeting his eyes.

∞∞∞

Arianna had stirred into awareness and looked
on wearily as Aryl laid Samuel next to his sister on the bed
between Arianna and Caleb. “I thought it was a dream,” she said
with a hoarse whisper. “Are there two of them?”

“There really are,” Caleb said, running a
finger lightly over each of the tiny foreheads. “We didn’t think of
a girl’s name. I guess we better get on that,” he said with a
smile. They stared in awe at the two small bundles snuggled in next
to each other and perfectly content; tiny, pink, rosebud mouths
appeared totally relaxed, but their little transparent eyebrows
still held a lingering grimace from their arduous journey into the
world. Friends and family gathered quietly at the foot of the bed
enchanted by the peaceful new family.

Little Girl began squirming, her arms
escaping the swaddling and let out a sudden wail of discontent.
Samuel frowned and pouted in annoyance and then joined her in
howling as her little fist flew over and popped him in the
mouth.

“Hey, now, it’s a little early to start
fighting,” Caleb said with a laugh. He tucked her arms back in the
swaddling and placed his hand over the bundle, slowly rocking her
back and forth until she settled before he leaned over his babies
and kissed Arianna. “You did good,” he said, touching his forehead
to hers. “You were amazing. I had no idea you were that
strong.”

“Neither did I. But I couldn’t have done it
without you,” she whispered.

Several hours later, when all of the friends
and family had left, Caleb went downstairs, holding Samuel tight
against his chest. His father sat at the kitchen table. An oil lamp
burning in the center gave an amber glow of comfort to the kitchen.
Caleb stopped at the bottom of the stairs for a moment and stared
at his father’s back. He sat hunched over his coffee with his head
bowed. Every third breath ended with a deep exhale and he sounded
very tired.

“Mom go to bed?” Caleb rounded the table,
facing him from the side.

“Mmm.” Hubert kept staring inside his
mug.

“Does ‘Mmm’ mean yes or no?” he demanded.

“Yes.”

“This is really getting monotonous, Dad.”

“Mmm.”

Caleb’s eyes flared as he blew out his breath
in frustration. Hubert rose to leave the room without meeting
Caleb’s glare. Caleb stepped in front of him while moving Samuel to
cradle his small head in the crook of his arm.

“If that’s the way you want it, fine, Dad,”
he said, taking a step closer to him, his voice low but imperative.
“You can hate me until the day you die. But you’re not going to
hate him.” He pushed the baby into Hubert’s arms and Hubert sat
down again. He held him awkwardly for a moment, looking back at
Caleb with an astonished expression. Caleb took a step away,
keeping his eyes on Samuel. Hubert slowly looked down as Samuel
pursed his lips and scrunched his face, threatening to cry but
quickly changed his mind and drifted off again.

“No, hold him like this.” Caleb stepped
forward to rearrange the baby in his arms. As he stepped away
again, he grumbled, “I know you remember how.” He collapsed into a
chair from exhaustion.

“What did you name him?” his father asked
quietly, worming a finger into the baby’s fist.

“Samuel Robert. After both of our
grandfathers.”

Hubert nodded tightly and cleared his throat,
unexpectedly moved with emotion. “He looks like you,” he said a
moment later, his voice cracking. “Darker hair, though.” He touched
the wisps of dark brown hair that lightened to a deep auburn color
at the temples.

“I’ll be right back.” Caleb left abruptly,
returning a few moments later with another small bundle. “Got two
for the price of one,” he joked and held the other baby out. Hubert
looked lost for a moment and then shifted Samuel further into the
crook of his arm, allowing Caleb to rest the second baby in the
crook of the other.

“Oh, now, she’s her mother to her toes,” he
said and grinned. “What did you name her?” Caleb laughed a short
laugh.

“Well, we never talked about girls' names.
For now, we’re calling her Little Girl. We’ll come up with
something. We’re accepting ideas if you’ve got any.”

“I’ll think on it,” he said softly. They sat
in silence for a long time, listening to the even breathing, soft
grunts and squeaks from the babies. “I don’t hate you, Caleb,” he
said suddenly, with his eyes on Samuel. “I’ve been mad as hell for
a long time . . . but I don’t hate you.”

Caleb nodded and took his words head on.
“What can I do?”

His father shook his head slowly. “Nothing.
I’ll just have to get past it.”

“How?”

Hubert took a deep breath and blew it out
slowly. “I suppose, if you hadn’t sold Dad’s farm and run off, you
wouldn’t have met the wild one.” He paused to glance up at the
ceiling with a smirk. “Somehow managed to tame her and then go on
to have these two precious little things.” He gently bounced his
elbows to keep both babies pacified.

“I guess that’s one way to look at it,” Caleb
said, though fatigue marking his words, he was grateful for the
breakthrough with his father.

“I guess I’m a grandpa,” he whispered,
looking back and forth to each baby.

“I guess you are.”

He looked up from the babies with peaceful
eyes. “You did good.”

May 13th 1930

“How’s that easel working out?”

“Wonderfully. Thank you so much for making
it, Aryl,” Claire said, smiling as she painted. He walked up behind
her and put his hands on her shoulders.