Ana Leigh - [The Frasers 4 - Jed] - One Night with a Sweet Talking Man (16 page)

Garth rinsed off the perspiration on Rory’s brow with a cool cloth. “Did the medicine help, honey?” he asked.

“Yes, it doesn’t hurt as much now,” she said.

“You never were a very good liar, honey. Let it out. Scream, curse, rip the sheets. Do anything that will help. I’ve always heard that women scream when they’re having babies.”

She tried to smile gamely at him. “Fraser women are like the men we married. We spit pain in the eye.” A tear slid down her cheek, and he reached out and gently captured it with a finger. “I guess I’m not a very good Fraser woman. I just don’t have it in me anymore.”

“Honey, remember those bleak hours in the cave, when we knew those outlaws would kill us? I asked you why you came back, when you could have escaped to safety.”

“And I told you I wouldn’t want to live without you,” she said weakly.

“That’s how I feel now, baby. I don’t want to go on without you. You’ve
got
to keep fighting. You can’t give up.”

“I just can’t fight anymore, Garth. I tried, but I can’t anymore.”

“Yes, you can, baby. You’re a fighter. You can’t quit now. Think about Danny—he needs you as much as I do. Baby, you can do it, I know you can! You’re tiny, but you’re strong, love. You’ve got the grit to tough this out.”

“It’s been good between us, hasn’t it?” she said, so low he could barely hear her. “I wouldn’t trade a minute of it for a lifetime without you.”

“You told me that then, too.”

“You remember,” she murmured.

He kissed her hand. “Every word you said that night.”

“And I still mean every word of it.”

“We
both
expected to die then, baby. It’s different now. There are others besides me who need you. Do it for them, honey. For Danny. For our little girl. We all need your strength, now more than ever. You
have
to live, honey. You have to live for us and for our children.”

“You’re still certain our baby will be a girl.”

“You bet, love. With blond hair and big, beautiful blue eyes just like her mother’s.”

“Garth!” she suddenly gasped, clutching his hand. “I love you.” Then she closed her eyes.

“Doctor!” Garth cried in panic.

Helena rushed to the door. “Doctor, come quickly.”

The doctor hurried to the bedside and listened to Rory’s heartbeat, then took her pulse. “Garth, you must leave now.”

Garth clasped Rory’s hand between his own. “I’m not leaving her, Doctor.”

“Mrs. Garson, I’ll need your help,” Dr. Meechem said. “Have any of the other women assisted in delivering a child?”

“Colt’s wife is a rancher. She’s had experience delivering foals and calves.”

“That will have to do. Go tell her to sterilize her hands, and tell her to hurry. Every minute counts.”

A
s the evening wore on, one or the other of them would doze off for ten or fifteen minutes. Howard Garson and Tom Davis eventually retired to their tents. As close as the families were, the two men felt like intruders, witnessing the Frasers’ grief.

Little was heard from the doctor or Helena and Cassie except for repeated requests for hot water, or an occasional “she’s still alive,” from one of them rushing between the kitchen and the bedroom.

The men remained outside, where they smoked and talked in low voices. Occasionally one or two would come in for a ham sandwich and a bite of salad; the coffeepot on the campfire was refilled as often as the one in the kitchen.

People spoke little during the vigil but their presence spoke volumes.

Mothers hugged their infants closer to their breasts when they nursed them. Husbands reached out just to touch their wives or kiss their foreheads in passing.

They were a united family, struggling with the possible loss of one of their own. Every one among them had borne the loss of loved ones and knew the depth of despair and mourning. Faced once again with that dread, each of them handled it differently.

Some sought an answer to why one so young and vibrant might die. Others were engulfed in anguish by the thought of the suffering Rory had to bear before her final sleep. Many grieved for the infant who might never draw its first breath.

And all grieved for Garth, who would have to go on with only memories of the woman he cherished.

They all also grieved for their own loss—the dear friend, the loving sister-in-law who, if not laughing, always smiled. If not singing, always hummed. Nurturing all of them, as she did her own husband and child.

Dawn streaked the sky with rays of pink and gray by the time Nathan Collins and Jethro Braden walked wearily up the path to Paddy O’Grady’s house. Paddy remained sleeping, and those passing wondered how they would explain to him what was happening.

Caroline woke with a start and looked at the clock. She had dozed off a half hour ago. She saw that Becky and Etta had done the same on the sofa and Rico on a nearby stuffed chair. She went out to the kitchen and put another kettle on the stove to boil.

Returning to the parlor, she sat on the piano stool and lightly struck a key or two with her finger, then began to play softly.

Rico opened his eyes and came over to her. “That is a beautiful melody you’re playing, Caroline.”

“Oh, Rico, I’m so sorry I woke you.”

“Please don’t stop. I’ve heard that song before, but I don’t know its name.”

“It’s one of my favorites.” She resumed playing. “It’s called ‘Liebestraum’ or ‘Dreams of Love.’ It’s written by a Hungarian composer named Franz Liszt.”

“You play well, Caroline.”

She smiled quietly. “I’ve always found it a good diversion when I’m lonely or feeling depressed. The haunting melody soothes me.”

“How long have you played the piano?”

“Since I was twelve. We lived in Virginia then.”

“Where the Frasers come from? Were you and Jed childhood sweethearts?”

“You’re a romantic, Rico, but I’m afraid it was just the opposite. We lived in the same town, but I doubt most of the Frasers even knew my name. I only knew Andy well, the youngest brother.”

“He was killed in the war. Is that right?”

“Yes. He’s Garrett’s father.”

Funny, how easily she had said it—the deep secret she had harbored for almost nine years.

“I had no idea. Jed and Garrett resemble each other so much, I just assumed Jed was…”

Caroline smiled. “Everyone thinks the same when they see them together. I actually didn’t meet Jed until a short time ago.”

She started to play another soothing piece, and Rico listened in silence. When she finished, he said, “That was as lovely as the first one. I’ve never heard it before.”

“It’s only a few years old. ‘Ich Liebe Dich.’ ‘I Love Thee.’ The composer, Edvard Grieg, was only twenty-two when he wrote it. The lyricist is Hans Christian Andersen.”

“The same man who writes those children’s fairy tales?”

She nodded. “He was sixty years old when he wrote the lyrics to this song.”

“I learned much of my English when my mother read his stories to me. Will you play the song again, Caroline?”

She did, and when she finished, he stood up. “Thank you, Caroline. For a few minutes you have brought light into this house.”

On his way out, Rico nodded to Jed, who had been standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Your bride is as talented as she is beautiful. Her music is a reflection of her soul. You have chosen wisely and well, Cousin Jed.”

Jed had heard her play for Garrett a time or two, but only popular, lively songs like “Old Gray Mare” or “Little Brown Jug.” He’d never guessed this side of Caroline existed. She was quite accomplished, playing classical selections from memory.

He suddenly was struck with a feeling of guilt. How many other things did he not know about her? She was a very private person. Who did she trust in life, other than her father? Even as a child, she had kept to herself.

He leaned against the doorframe to watch her. She had been a relentless worker throughout the night, making sandwiches, brewing coffee, or putting kettles of water on the stove to boil. And her concern was heartfelt. Until now she had only shown affection for her father and son, protecting her vulnerability by never revealing this emotion to anyone else.

He’d been surprised by how well she had fit in with his family. Because of her strained relationship with him, he had expected she would be standoffish; instead, she had embraced his family and now shared the grief they were suffering.

His gaze rested on her face as she played. For a few stolen moments, she had found a release on the wings of the melody. As he had watched her smile and talk with Rico, he had wished it was him she was smiling at, chatting with so casually. Why couldn’t they share the same casual companionship instead of the constant spatting between them?

The answer was clear, and it had nothing to do with her neglecting to inform the family of Garrett’s birth or her resentment of an unwanted marriage. It was the sexual tension between them. No matter how much she tried to resist it, that desire was always there between them. And as long as she continued to deny that need, they could never resolve the problem between them. Any attempt on his part only led to raising her anger, or to her withdrawing even more from him.

We don’t have to love each other—or even like each other…I don’t foresee it to be “unbearable.”
Where in hell did she get damn fool ideas like that? And the pity of it was he had agreed!

Even now, with the crisis surrounding them, he wanted her, as he recalled how she felt in his arms, her moans of ecstasy, the taste of her, the scent of her, and the ultimate thrill of that incredible moment of climax.

Caroline suddenly stood up with a startled look. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Jed asked.

“It sounded like a baby crying.”

“I’ve been hearing babies crying from the time we got here.”

“But this came from there,” she said and pointed to the bedroom Rory was in.

“Maybe Cassie’s nursing Sam.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Caroline sat down disconsolately. Then she jumped to her feet again. “Listen—there it is again. It sounds like the cry of a newborn!”

Jolted awake, Becky asked, “What? Newborn baby?”

“I think I heard a baby crying! It was very faint, but I’m sure it was coming from that bedroom.”

Fully awake, Etta asked, “Do we dare knock on the door and ask?”

“I don’t hear any baby crying,” Jed said.

Becky put her ear to the door, then stepped away, shaking her head. “It’s still quiet in there. I haven’t heard a sound out of that room since the doctor entered it last night.”

The women returned to their seats, and Jed went into the bedroom to check on Garrett. To his surprise, the boy was awake and sat up when Jed entered.

“Hey, what are you doing awake?” Jed asked.

“I’ve been thinking hard about something,” Garrett said.

“What’s bothering you, Garrett?” Jed sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t know what to call you.”

The statement caught Jed by surprise. “What would you like to call me?”

“Mama told me before you were married that you and my father were brothers, and so you’re my uncle. Should I call you Uncle Jed?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“But it don’t seem right calling you Uncle Jed, the same as I do the others.”

“Why not, Garrett?”

“’Cause you’re married to my mom now.”

“Well then, I’ve got a good idea: why don’t you call me by the name that I called my father?”

“What was that?” Garrett asked.

“Dad.”

After a thoughtful moment, Garrett nodded. “Yeah, that’s better than Uncle Jed. And you’re gonna live with us all the time now, right?”

“I’m at sea most of the time, Garrett. But when I’m not, I’ll live with you.”

“I’m glad. Before you got married, Mama was afraid we’d have to go back to Virginia, where you used to live. I sure don’t want to leave Granddad.”

Jed grasped the boy’s hand. Somehow, the hand felt smaller than it had before. “I promise you, Garrett, I will never take you away from your grandfather.”

“Or Buffer?”

“Or Buffer,” Jed said.

Garrett threw his arms around Jed’s neck. “I’m glad Mama married you. I love you, Dad.”

Jed felt his eyes moisten, and he hugged the youngster tighter. “And I love you, son. I love you.”

Garrett lay back. “I bet I can go back to sleep now.”

Jed stood up. “I bet you can, too.” He bent down and kissed him on the cheek. “Good night, pal.”

“Good night, Dad.”

Jed’s heart swelled with love, and he went outside and rejoined the men.

Exhausted, but too nervous to stay put, the three women were in the process of cleaning up the kitchen for breakfast when Dr. Meechem came out of the room. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and the front of his shirt was stained heavily with blood.

Fearing the worst, the three women stared numbly at him, waiting for him to speak.

“What does a man have to do around this house to get a cup of coffee?”

All three women jumped into motion, bumping into one another in an effort to serve him. He took a deep draught of the coffee, then shoved the cup to indicate he wanted it refilled.

Becky couldn’t bear it. “Doctor…Rory…is she…”

“I’ve done all I can for her. From now on, it’s between her and God.”

“Is she still hemorrhaging?”

“She’s bleeding, as to be expected after an operation, but the important thing for her is to remain still to avoid any more hemorrhaging.”

“What kind of operation, Doctor?” Caroline asked.

“It’s called a cesarean section. The baby is actually delivered through the abdomen, which spares the lives of mothers and infants. I observed several of them performed last year when I was in France, but this is the first one I’ve ever done. Rory will be able to bear more children with this procedure without jeopardizing her life.”

“Oh, my God! I can’t believe it,” Becky cried. She sank down in a chair and, sobbing in relief, buried her head in her hands.

Caroline swallowed her own tears of joy and put a comforting hand on Becky’s shoulder. “And the baby—”

“Is sleeping like a newborn,” Dr. Meechem said. “A little levity there in an attempt to cheer you all up.”

Becky lifted her head. “I don’t understand. How can you deliver a baby through the abdomen, Doctor?”

“With the aid of two very efficient assistants. I’m sure they will explain it in detail to you soon. They’re cleaning and padding Rory up now. I don’t want to mislead you, ladies; she is still very weak from the loss of blood, and she’ll be in bad pain for some time. But if she doesn’t start hemorrhaging again or have any further complications, she has a good chance of making it. That little gal has a lot of grit.” He cracked a tired smile. “Not much blood right now, but a lot of grit.”

A tearful Etta ran outside to break the good news to the men.

“And Garth?” Becky asked.

“At one point I thought I would have to treat
him
before continuing the operation. A delivery room is no place for husbands.”

“May we go in to see her now, Doctor?” Caroline asked.

“Give the ladies a few more minutes to finish cleaning up in there. You can well guess, it’s pretty messy. You’ll be needing a new mattress.”

“It will be a pleasure, Doctor. How can we ever thank you?”

“I must say, I’m quite proud of myself. I might even write this up for medical journals, operating under the conditions I did. But she’s not out of the woods yet—I can’t emphasize enough that Rory must have
complete
bed rest for six to eight weeks. So please have your husbands go in there and haul Garth out of that room, or she’ll never get any.

“I must go home and clean up since I have other patients to see, but I should be back in about four hours.

“I’ve given Rory a sedative to make her sleep, and it might be wise to move the baby into another room. I’ve examined the infant closely, and she appears to have survived the delivery without any harm. But the little tyke’s had a pretty rough time of it, too, so she’ll need her rest as well.”

“Doctor, if you remove your shirt, I’ll give you one of Clay’s to wear. And I’ll see what I can do about soaking the blood out of the one you’re wearing,” Becky said.

He grinned. “Perhaps that would be wise. If Emily sees me like this, she’ll think I’ve been shot. But you tell Clay I’m not settling for just a shirt. I expect a case of his best wine for all my hard work.”

Becky left the room, and Dr. Meechem smiled at Caroline. “I understand that yesterday was your wedding day, Mrs. Fraser. I wish you good health and happiness. It’s been my observation that it’s easier to have happiness when you have good health.”

“Thank you, Doctor, I’ll keep that thought.”

“If your husband is anything like his brothers, I know you will have a happy life. I’m very fond of this family.”