A Promise for Tomorrow (11 page)
“Won’t the new baby need you?”
“Of course, but I’ll need you, too, and I hope you’ll need me, as well.”
Victoria remained silent for several moments, then she reached up a hand to touch James’ cheek. The action touched James in a way he had not expected. He hugged her close and cherished the moment. This was their moment alone. Just theirs. There was no Carolina or Mrs. Graves. No Grandfather Adams or anyone else. It was just Victoria and James. Daughter and father. He wanted that moment to live forever in his memory. He wanted to take it with him when times were hard and he had to be far away from home.
It was only after thinking on these things that James suddenly realized that Victoria was crying. “What’s wrong?” he asked, lifting her chin so that he might better see her face.
“You said God ’dopts us ’cause He loves us,” she replied, hiccuping a sob.
“That’s right. We become His children with full rights to all of His blessings.”
“But you didn’t ’dopt me. Mama said you would, but you didn’t. My name is still St. John, but your last name is Baldwin.”
Between her tears and little-girl voice, the name came out sounding like Botwin, but James didn’t mind. He knew what was troubling her heart now. Was it possible that this insecurity had been the culprit to stir up all of the conflict between him and Victoria? Before he could comment, however, Victoria continued.
“Mama’s a Baldwin and even the new baby will be a Baldwin. I know, ’cause Mama was picking out names and she always stopped with Baldwin.”
James smiled and let go of her chin in order to wipe her tears with his handkerchief. “Is that why you’ve been so angry at me? Did you think I didn’t love you enough to give you my name?”
Victoria’s huge dark eyes beheld him with hope. “I’m not mad at you. I just don’t want you to send me away.”
James shook his head. “I will never send you away, Victoria. And if it meets with your approval, I would like very much to adopt you and call you Victoria Baldwin. Would that be all right with you?”
Victoria nodded enthusiastically. “Can we do it now? Before the baby comes? May I be a Baldwin first?”
James laughed. “You most certainly may. I will go right away and see my lawyer about it. We will change your name as quick as this,” he said and snapped his fingers.
Victoria smiled and tried to imitate the snap but found it impossible to coordinate her pudgy fingers. She was content, however, to let the matter go and instead wrapped her arms around James’ neck in a tight, possessive hug. “I love you, Papa,” she whispered in his ear.
It was James’ turn to grow misty-eyed. “I love you, Victoria,” he replied, then added with great pride, “Baldwin.”
Carolina’s labor started with the dawning of November the sixth, and by afternoon she was tired of the wait and tired of the pain. Through the window in her bedroom, Carolina could see the snow lightly falling. It had come early and would probably amount to nothing more than a dusting, but the hypnotic pattern of falling snow was the only thing to draw her attention away from the suffering.
“Does it always take this long?” she asked as Mrs. Graves wiped a cool towel across her perspiring forehead.
“Sometimes much longer,” she admitted to her young charge. “I figure this little one ought to be born sometime this evening.”
“This evening?” Carolina nearly screamed the question as another pain tore through her abdomen. She pulled against the leather birthing straps that Mrs. Graves had secured at the headboard of her bed. It helped only marginally to have something to pull against as her child pushed for freedom.
“There, there. It’s all a part of birthing. You’ll forget all about the pain once you’re holding the baby in your arms.”
“I seriously doubt that,” Carolina said, falling back against her pillows as the pain subsided.
Mrs. Graves chuckled and rinsed the towel in a basin of cool water. “There’s not a woman alive but what says the same thing during her laboring time. But I promise you, it’s true. Now, you just rest easy while I go and check on the master and Victoria.”
Carolina nodded and closed her eyes. All she wanted to do was rest, but there was no rest to be had. There was no comfortable position in which to lie, and even if there were, the pains were close enough together that anything more than five or ten minutes of rest would be impossible.
She tried to think about the baby and of what Mrs. Graves had told her all along about delivering a child. She had heeded the woman’s advice in every way possible and knew that the time would pass more easily if she remembered the end goal. Her baby. James’ baby.
She smiled at this thought and sighed. Life had been so much easier these past few days. James and Victoria were bonding in a way that she had once only dreamed was possible. Victoria’s entire mood seemed lightened by the process of adoption, which James had moved through rapidly. He had found Carolina’s attorney, Thomas Swann, to be of tremendous assistance, and Carolina felt grateful that Swann had understood their need. And so it was in a process of one friend calling upon another and then another that Victoria’s adoption was all but signed and sealed. Already she called herself by the Baldwin name, and no one said anything to discourage her from doing so.
“May I come in?” James called from the door.
“Please,” Carolina answered, seeing his worried expression turn to one of sheepish uncertainty.
“Are you sure?” He came to her bedside in hesitant steps. “If you’d rather I not be here—”
“
I’d
rather not be here,” Carolina announced with a smile. She reached out her hand and took hold of her husband’s long, lean fingers. “But, of course, we know it is most necessary for me to remain.”
James seemed to relax at this and took up the bedside chair. “So my son is giving you fits, I hear.”
“What makes you so certain it’s a boy?” asked Carolina with a stubborn upward tilt of her chin.
James grinned. “Because that’s what I want him to be. Besides, we already have a lovely daughter.”
“True enough, but what if this is another lovely daughter?” she asked and grimaced, feeling the beginnings of another contraction.
“I would love another daughter, just as I would love a son. Never fear,” he assured her.
Carolina was determined to keep from making an issue of her pain, but as the strength of the contraction gripped her, she cried out and lunged forward against the leather straps, dropping her hold on her husband’s hand. “Oh, James,” she said, moaning in misery, “please pray for me. Pray for us.”
The color had drained from his face. “Let me get Mrs. Graves.”
“Not . . . necessary.” She gasped for breath, fighting the pain.
“But the baby!”
“Isn’t coming yet.” Carolina nearly growled the words. She found herself extremely irritated that James wouldn’t just pray as she had asked him to do.
James was frozen in place, however, and Carolina knew she had probably scared ten years from his life. As the contraction let up, Carolina struggled to draw a deep breath. She felt completely exhausted and let her aching body ease back against the bed, without concern for her appearance.
“James,” she whispered and reached up to encourage his touch. He stared at her hesitantly for a moment. It seemed he was afraid to touch her, lest he cause her even more pain. “James, don’t look at me like that.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, leaning forward ever so slightly. “Like what?”
“Like I’m about to pass from this earth. I’m only giving birth, and while I know many women suffer complications and such—”
“Don’t even speak it!” James exclaimed, taking hold of her hand with such sudden alacrity that Carolina was left momentarily speechless. “Please don’t say a thing like that,” he said, fear obviously edging his voice.
“James, don’t be afraid for me. This is all very natural. Mrs. Graves says I’m doing fine, and I’m certain that when the time comes for the doctor, he will say the same thing. It’s painful, yes. But not so that my life is in jeopardy.” It was as if in dealing with her husband’s fear, Carolina could finally let go of her own fears. She had certainly worried that she might die giving birth. Women she knew from childhood had passed away during childbirth. Why should she be any different? But seeing her husband’s uncertainty caused Carolina to put aside the worries that had haunted her throughout the day. She would give birth to this child, and she would live to raise the baby, as well.
“Before the pains come again, could we just pray together?” she finally asked James. “Would you pray for us?”
James nodded and moved to sit beside her on the bed. Gently he put his arm around her shoulder, and as he did Carolina leaned against him and lingered in the memories of other times spent in his arms. There would be other times. This child would be born to them, and life would be good. She had found new strength, and from somewhere deep inside her, Carolina knew it would be the strength she needed to get through.
“Father,” James prayed, “please protect my wife and child. Ease their pain and suffering, yet bring a speedy and healthy ending to this labor. Let us all focus on what is to come, to the joy that we will share in this new child. Let us cast aside our fears and the oppression of the moment as we trust you.”
Carolina could feel her stomach tightening but forced herself to remain still in James’ arms. She bit at her lower lip and tightly gripped the bedcovers as the pain became almost unbearable. Then the pain changed. It was almost indescribable at first, then the urgency to bear down against the pain overtook her with surprise. With a gasp, her head snapped up and Carolina looked at her husband in stunned wonder.
“Get Mrs. Graves,” she commanded, knowing from what she had been told that her labor was making the transition into a new stage. “Hurry!”
James jumped up from the bed, stumbling over the chair as he went. “Mrs. Graves!” he called out frantically. “Mrs. Graves!”
Carolina would have laughed at the scene had she not been so intent on the new feelings controlling her body. The contraction passed as the others did, and with it the urgency to push subsided. Mrs. Graves had told her that when these feelings came upon her, it wouldn’t be long until her child would be born. She paused, glancing around, feeling the safety and assurance of familiar things. Her child would soon be here and in her arms, and the wonder of it all brought tears to her eyes.
Brenton Phineas Baldwin was born in the early hours of the evening. He screamed with a hearty vitality that left no one wondering about his health and well-being. The doctor had pronounced him one of the finest specimens of new life that he had ever had the privilege to deliver, and Mrs. Graves had assured Carolina and James that Brenton’s handsome features ran a close second to Victoria’s newborn beauty. The latter was said especially in light of the fact that Victoria hovered between James and Carolina, studying her new brother with a look that alternated between extreme pride and cautious exploration.
“He is perfect,” Carolina declared, running a hand over the baby’s dark brown matting of hair. “I think he looks like you, James.”
“What? All ruddy and wrinkled?” James asked with a laugh.
Carolina and Mrs. Graves laughed as well but Victoria seemed not to hear the joke. “I think he looks funny,” Victoria said, reaching up to touch his cheek. Just then baby Brenton yawned and gurgled. “Oh no!” Victoria exclaimed. “God forgot to give him teeth!”
The adults burst into laughter, much to Victoria’s surprise. “Well, look,” Victoria told them, not understanding. “His mouth is empty.” At this Brenton began to fuss.
“I’d wager his stomach is, too,” Mrs. Graves suggested, then patted Victoria on the head. “Never fear, deary. Your little brother doesn’t need teeth just yet. The good Lord knows exactly what each of us needs and doesn’t need. Right now Brenton only needs to be loved and cared for. When he needs teeth, God will send them along. And when he needs sisterly advice, you’ll be there to help him out.”
Victoria exchanged a look with her father and mother as if to assure herself that Mrs. Graves spoke the truth. Carolina smiled at her daughter and used her free arm to pull her close. As she did, Brenton seemed to settle down. “Look, Victoria, I think he already likes you.”
“I like him, too,” Victoria admitted, “but I still think he needs teeth.”
Mrs. Graves slipped out of the room, and when she did James took up the place she’d vacated and stood beside Carolina and Brenton. “I’d say we make a dandy family,” he declared.
“I second that motion, Mr. Baldwin,” Carolina agreed. “We have a fine daughter and a fine son. What more could anyone ask for?” She looked up to find James’ loving gaze fixed upon her.
“And we’re all Baldwins,” Victoria announced, as though someone might have forgotten. “Even me.”
“Especially you,” James added, and Victoria nodded quite soberly.
“We are truly blessed,” Carolina said, giving Victoria a squeeze.
James eased down onto the bed to sit beside his wife and son. “We are blessed, and we need to always remember that. We have each other and that is very important. We are a family and we must always stand beside each other through good times and bad.”
“For better or worse, eh?” Carolina asked with a grin.
“For richer or poorer,” James countered.
“Even without teeth,” Victoria declared.
James chuckled and reached behind Carolina to tousle the child’s hair. “Even without teeth, for there may one day come a time when I shall lose all of mine and be just as wrinkled up as Brenton. I will especially count on your love then.”
Victoria took hold of his hand. “I will love you then, Papa. I promise.”
Carolina leaned against James, her face nuzzled against his. “I will love you then, too. Maybe even more than I do now, although that is difficult to imagine,” she whispered softly, placing a tender kiss upon his cheek.
James turned and caught her lips with his own. “I’m counting on that, Mrs. Baldwin,” he murmured as he pulled away. “I’m counting on that.”