The Midwife's Dilemma (5 page)

C
ould she?

When Martha did not answer him right away and averted her eyes, Thomas sighed and got to his feet. “I need to tend to the horse. Perhaps you can give me your answer when I get back. If not, your silence will be answer enough.”

Her heart begged her to say yes, that she could accept his proposal unequivocally, but she had to think long and hard before she gave him an answer. She glanced up and watched him as he carried the jug of water over to the horse, but she quickly looked down again when her heart started racing and threatened to keep her from thinking about anything other than loving him and desperately wanting him as her husband.

Their circumstances, however, could not be more different. As a widower with two grown children and substantial means, Thomas had no one depending on him, which meant that he had nothing to consider more than what he wanted to do. A lawyer by training, he had always enjoyed his status and inherited wealth as the son of the founder of Trinity, and he had
spent his life using his talents and energy for the benefit of the town and the people who lived there.

She sighed and worried the napkin on her lap. She, too, held a revered status in town that was important to her. Once widowed, however, the meager rewards she earned had not been enough to support herself and her two children, and she depended on others for a home. After a fire last year claimed the one she had made with her brother, she had been fortunate to have found a home with Fern and Ivy.

Granted, she hadn't had to worry about supporting her son, Oliver, for the past ten years. At fourteen he had moved to Boston to live with his grandfather, Graham Cade, to claim the future his father had rejected. Under his grandfather's tutelage, he had finished his education and now practiced law in his grandfather's firm. He made every effort to return home for a visit once a year or so, but he had yet to come this year.

Her relationship with Oliver was not as strong or as deep as it would have been if he had never left, but she suspected a son's inclination to become independent of his mother was as natural as it was necessary. In recent years, however, she occasionally turned to her son for advice, especially where Victoria was concerned, although he did not fully comprehend the very difficult relationship a mother had with a daughter as opposed to a son.

Victoria, however, had only just turned eighteen, and Martha had an obligation to provide for her. Her relationship with her daughter was still contentious at times and was bound to get even more so once she confronted Victoria about her behavior with Dr. McMillan and her hopes to marry him.

Martha nibbled at another cookie, found it tasteless, and set it aside. However different their circumstances might be, she and Thomas had one very important thing in common: a desire to change the way they lived their lives.

Thomas no longer found satisfaction in his civic responsibilities to Trinity, and he was also weary of traveling for weeks at a time to monitor inherited family investments that were as far west as Clarion, some thirty miles away, and as far east as several major seaboard cities, namely Philadelphia and New York.

For Martha, the demands of responding to constant calls in all types of weather and at all times of the day or night were taking a toll on her. The yearnings for the comfort of a husband, a home of her own, and a more ordinary life had grown stronger over the past year, and she was struggling to rediscover the peace and contentment she had once enjoyed in the life she believed God had chosen for her.

Instead, Thomas had come back into her life and offered her the opportunity to satisfy the yearnings of both their hearts.

When she heard him returning to the blanket, she took a deep breath. She had been confused about what to do for months now, but with Thomas by her side again, all doubt and confusion about how she would respond to his question slipped away. And she knew that she was ready to give up her calling. Ready to truly love again. Ready for the companionship of a husband and a home of her own. Ready to do all the things she had been too busy to do while tending to everyone else.

But before she could seriously contemplate ending her days as a midwife, she had one final duty that had to be met. She was just afraid that Thomas would not give her the time she needed to meet that responsibility.

When he finally sat down next to her, she reached out and took his hand with her own. “I can accept your proposal, unequivocally, with the exception of one issue that would force me to say no and turn you away.”

His eyes deepened with an understanding that she knew stemmed from the past. “Your work as a midwife,” he stated in
a flat tone of voice. He shook his head before he looked away from her to stare into the distance.

“But it's different this time—”

“No,” he argued. “It's exactly the same issue that kept us from marrying all those years ago when you were training with your grandmother to replace her. I wanted you to stop, and you refused.”

He slipped his hand free. “Before I left, I thought we'd both agreed that we were equally tired of the constant interruptions in our lives, and that now that we were a little older, we wanted to make changes that would make both of us happier. That's why I resigned as mayor and traveled east with Fern and Ivy, planning to dissolve my investments there. I'd hoped by now you'd be able to tell me that you were ready to let someone else take up your calling. Apparently I was wrong.” His shoulders slumped ever so slightly.

She placed her hand on his arm. “Please stop and listen to what I have to say without interrupting me. I
am
ready to let someone else take over as midwife.”

When he looked back at her, his eyes were wide with disbelief but shaded with hope.

“Are you certain, absolutely certain you are?”

“Yes, I'm absolutely certain,” she insisted, “but I can't leave the women and children who depend on me without anyone to help them other than Dr. McMillan. I have a duty to find a competent woman who is willing to take my place. All I ask is that you give me the time I need to find her.”

He lifted a brow and started to smile. “More time. That's all you want? More time?”

She smiled. “Yes.”

His smile drooped just a tad. “How much time do you think you'll need?”

“I'm afraid I can't tell you that,” she admitted. “I haven't been very successful so far after talking to several women I know who are very experienced with helping me during births or with all sorts of illnesses, but there are a good number I still need to approach. If one of them is interested, I don't think it would take more than five or six months before she'd be ready to take over as midwife, although she might still need me occasionally for difficult cases.”

“And if none of them are interested? What then?”

She swallowed hard. “If one of the younger women has a true desire to become a midwife but has little birthing experience, then it will take much longer. At least a year, and even after that, for perhaps another year, I'd feel obligated to work very closely with her, which means I can't promise to marry you until you can agree to wait for me . . . for however long it takes.”

His expression hardened. “And if I agree to wait, you can promise you'll marry me and not change your mind?”

“I won't change my mind, but I still want to keep our plans to ourselves.”

His smile returned. It was a little tentative, but it was there. “Then if you're very, very sure that this is what you need to do, then I can agree to wait, although I must tell you that I'll be impatient at times,” he warned.

She nodded, reluctant to admit that she might become impatient, too.

“And after you've gotten some proper rest, we'll talk about picking out another horse for you. Obviously, you're going to need one.”

She shook her head. “I've already told you. That's my responsibility, and I'll take care of finding another horse, just as I'll take care of finding someone to replace me.”

“Which makes me curious about something,” he said. “Since
you're so determined to keep our plans to marry a secret, won't folks find it odd that you're actively trying to find someone to replace you?”

“Not at all,” she insisted. “It's been common knowledge for some time now that Victoria has no interest in taking up my work. I've approached several women in the past year to consider taking my place when I'm no longer willing or able to continue, and several others more recently while you were away, but only in very general terms. If none of them are interested, I'll be discreet, but I'll waste no time before I approach others. If I'm not as successful right away as I hope to be and it ends up that we don't marry for another year or two, it doesn't make much sense to announce now that we're betrothed, would it?”

“No, I suppose not,” he admitted, “but in all fairness, I do have a few matters to discuss with you that might give you pause and invite you to reconsider accepting my proposal.”

“I trust you won't ask me to agree to anything I'd find wholly unacceptable, especially now after you've been so willing to compromise with me.”

He brightened. “In truth, there are two matters, although one is little more than highly inconvenient for both of us. I was so busy helping Fern and Ivy that I never got beyond Philadelphia to fully dissolve my investments in New York City. I'd like to stay here at home for a few weeks before I undertake another journey east, but I don't expect that I'll be gone for more than a few weeks this time, a month at the very most. I may have to go to Clarion in the meantime on a family matter, which wouldn't take me away for more than a few days, but I'm not exactly certain of that yet.”

Although she was disappointed by the prospect of his leaving again, she was too buoyed by his willingness to wait for her to find her own replacement to be cross with him. The fact that
they would have time together before he headed back East again also helped to ease her dismay. “Is that all?”

When her stomach growled, he laughed. “That's all for now. We can discuss the other matter later, since it's a bit complicated, but we do need to finish this picnic and get you back to Trinity before dark.”

She grinned and snatched the half-eaten cookie from her plate. This time, she found it full of flavor.

He handed her another. “I don't suppose you'd consider the idea that when I leave for New York that you'd go with me so we could look for a midwife there and bring her back with us, would you? Of course, that would mean we'd have to marry first since it wouldn't be proper for us to travel together otherwise.”

Martha pushed the cookie he was offering away. “Certainly not. Unlike Fern, who seems to think it's perfectly fine to hire a stranger without any solid references, I won't do that. I'll find someone I know and trust who'll make a good midwife right here, and you'll have to live with your promise to wait until I do. Unless you're already changing your mind,” she added with a scowl.

He offered her a crooked smile. “I didn't think you'd agree, but you can't fault a man for asking.”

“Perhaps not.” She smiled.

“Then agree, at least, to spend a day with me. Not tomorrow or even the next day. You need to rest. But one day soon,” he said.

When he leaned close to kiss her, she leaned closer and whispered, “Yes.”

She knew the dangers of his kisses and that he knew she found them almost impossible to resist, which meant she really could not wait too long before thinking of ways to avoid them. One way, she supposed, was to make herself just a little less predictable.

She just needed this one last kiss before she tried.

M
artha didn't awake the next day until midafternoon.

When she spied Bird perched on top of his cage instead of inside, she sighed. He had escaped once again. Since she had also forgotten to put the cover on the cage last night, she must have slept straight through his morning serenade.

After dragging herself out of bed, she filled his food bowl with a fresh supply of seeds. The instant he hopped inside the cage to eat, she closed the door, hoping for a little peace to say her prayers and dress for the day.

Half an hour later, with Thomas's invitation to spend a day with him the day after tomorrow wrapped around her heart of hopes, she descended the back staircase in the confectionery. She felt more refreshed and just plain happier than she had been for many, many months. The aroma of a heavenly stew awaited her. Famished to the point she was a bit light-headed,
she held on to the railing for fear she might take a tumble and add yet another bump to her head.

For the first time in months, Martha realized she felt a renewed spirit within. Her talk with Thomas gave her direction, and with a firm hold on her faith and a level of grit and pluck she had not been able to summon for a long time, she felt ready to face the future and its challenges.

Since it had been too late by the time Thomas had brought her home last night for Martha to go out to Aunt Hilda's to confront Victoria about her behavior with Dr. McMillan, she would need every resource at her command today, because she was determined to see her daughter, right after she'd had something to eat.

She paused at the bottom of the steps, but Ivy was the only one in the kitchen. The moment Ivy looked over her shoulder from her place at the sink to see who was entering the room, she smiled.

“Awake at last, I see,” Ivy teased before she turned her attention back to the pan she had been scouring. “I'm afraid you slept right through breakfast and missed dinner, too, but there's a teapot on the table and a plate of chicken stew for you in the oven. Let me know if the tea has turned as cool as the air today. I can heat up some more water in no time.” She set down the pan she had been cleaning and dried off her hands. “I've a mind to join you for a cup myself.”

“I'm sure it's fine. Thank you.” Martha retrieved the plate of stew from the oven and sat down.

Ivy took a place at the table across from her. “Those dirty pans can wait.”

Concerned by the exhaustion that creased Ivy's features, Martha filled both of their teacups. “Maybe you should take a few days to rest up and let Jane take care of the kitchen like you said she was going to.”

Ivy sighed and passed her a small jug of honey. “We were all so exhausted, we were abed before you came home and never even heard you come upstairs. I trust you were able to help Mr. Crowder's daughter?”

“Yes, I believe I did,” Martha replied. As she added two dollops of honey to her tea, she felt certain that by now Missy was a married woman.

“Victoria came by this morning hoping to see you. We told her you'd been called right back out again last night and were still asleep, so she decided to leave you to rest.”

Martha swallowed the lump in her throat. She attempted to eat some of the chicken stew, but she was so disappointed that she'd missed seeing Victoria, she barely tasted a thing.

When she heard a bit of a commotion, which sounded like furniture being pushed about, she glanced down the hall to the door to the new storage room. “Is there someone working in there?”

Ivy's sky-blue eyes filled, oddly enough, with tears. “That would be my sister. She's got Jane and Cassie with her, too. After you left yesterday, Fern hired a couple of men to move all the furniture down from the sitting room upstairs to the room we planned to use for more storage down here. They carried up a couple of other pieces for Jane and her daughter to use in their new bedroom.”

She paused and blinked back her tears. “There wasn't enough daylight left to do more than shove everything in the rooms, which by rights should have had a good cleaning first. I told Fern there wasn't any need to get all that cleaning and rearranging done today, but she's got it in her head that Jane and her daughter will be sleeping upstairs tonight in a proper bedroom, just like the rest of us.”

Martha understood all too well how important it was to
have a room to call your own when you were living in someone else's home. She was not surprised that Fern understood that, too, and dismissed Ivy's grumbling as nothing more than pure exhaustion speaking. She took one last bite of her stew and got to her feet. “I've had more rest than anyone, for a change, so if you'll excuse me, I'll see what I can do to help them.”

Ivy sniffled. “Would you? I'd like to help, too, but—”

“But you have a kitchen to tidy, which is work enough, so I'll send Cassie in to help you.” Martha walked around the table to press a kiss to the top of Ivy's head and grabbed a work apron before she headed toward a few hours of physical work that she hoped just might keep her mind off of Victoria—and the very handsome man Martha suspected was determined to make her his wife sooner rather than later.

Martha wiped the perspiration from her brow with the back of her hand. Even after cleaning and arranging the new downstairs sitting room, she still had a good bit of energy left, along with solid respect for Jane, who had been working nonstop just as hard as Martha had been. She was just a bit overwarm.

Anxious to get all of the furniture back into place now that they had finished cleaning it, she studied the room and weighed Jane's suggestion. “I think you're right. If you put both of the beds on that far wall, the rug should fit right in between them. That way, come winter, neither one of you will have to tolerate cold floorboards the moment you get out of bed.”

Jane handed her a fresh handkerchief she pulled out of her work apron and smiled as she wiped her own brow with another. “Having a rug at all is a luxury for us,” she admitted, “but you've done enough work for today. Why don't you head downstairs
and see how Miss Fern and Miss Ivy are doing and send Cassie up? She can help me unroll the rug and set it into place.”

Martha chuckled. “Right about now, I suspect Fern and Ivy are doing rather well. The last time I went downstairs to fetch some water for us, they were getting ready to take Cassie for a walk around Trinity so she would have a better sense of where she was living now. I suspect they probably included a stop at the general store to get a larger tin of licorice root while they were out and about, so I'm afraid you're stuck with me.”

Jane's eyes widened and she shook her head. “Those two women are just too good to be true. I've actually had to pinch myself, just to be sure I haven't been sucked into a fairy tale with not one but two fairy godmothers.”

Martha tucked the handkerchief into her apron pocket. “You're not alone. I feel the same way about them, and so do most of the folks in town. But from what I've learned from the two of them so far, the sick man you were caring for long after your wages ran out might have felt the same way about you. I know Fern and Ivy are very grateful that you did,” she added as she helped Jane to drag the braided rug.

Huffing a bit by the time they had the rug inside the room, Jane held one end of the rug while Martha positioned the other close to the wall. “I didn't have any way to contact Mr. Ashford, but if I'd left that poor man all alone, he would have died in a matter of days, hungry and thirsty and lying in his own waste. No one deserves to die like that, alone and unloved, regardless of how a life has been spent or wasted,” she whispered, as if her choice to stay as his caretaker were so natural and so right, anyone in her position would have made the very same decision as she had.

Martha knew better, however. She dropped her end of the rug down and nodded for Jane to do the same. Once they'd
unrolled the rug they had salvaged from storage, Martha was disappointed to see that it was well-worn and needed more than a few stitches to repair places that had separated, creating any number of opportunities for Jane or Cassie to trip.

But when she glanced over at Jane, the woman was smiling as if the rug were brand-new. “It's going to be perfect, especially after I do a bit of mending. Let's see how the beds fit,” Jane urged.

Martha followed her back out into the hall and mentally added gratitude as another good quality to Jane's character. Then together they worked to bring in the two beds. The wooden headboards were heavy, the mattresses were bulky and awkward to handle, and by the time they had everything in place, she was in awe of Jane's strength and stamina.

Those qualities were hard to dismiss, mostly because Martha was winded and had a twinge in her back, while Jane had enough extra breath to be humming while she worked. She moved about the room with apparent ease, even though she had already helped to clean and set up the sitting room downstairs while Martha had been sleeping the day away.

“Maybe we should take a minute to rest and plan out the rest of the room before we bring in anything else so we don't have to waste our energy moving things around in here,” Martha suggested as she rubbed the small of her back.

Jane cringed. “I'm sorry. I've worked you too hard, haven't I? Why don't you leave the rest to me? There's not much else left out in the hall.”

“Only a couple of heavy trunks that even you shouldn't attempt to handle on your own, not to mention a washstand and a pair of side chairs,” Martha argued, unwilling to admit she was less of a workhorse than Jane. “Do you always work this hard without stopping?”

Jane paused for a moment before she answered. “Not always. Only when I'm really trying to impress someone.”

“Why in heaven's name would you think you had to impress me?”

“Because . . . because I know how important you are to Miss Fern and Miss Ivy and how much they value your opinion. I want you to think highly of me, and I want to reassure you that Miss Fern and Miss Ivy didn't make a mistake hiring me and taking Cassie and me into their household,” Jane said quietly.

“Then have mercy and consider your goal met,” Martha quipped.

Jane's eyes widened, and almost immediately she reached around to rub the small of her back, too.

Martha grinned. Darn if the woman wasn't human after all. And a good honest woman, too.

Ivy chose that particular moment to walk into the room. “I see you two are making progress,” she said as she glanced around. “This is good, but you need to hurry up and finish so you have enough time to really pretty yourself up for supper, Martha. We're having company.”

“Company? Since when?” Martha blurted.

“Since Thomas arrived just a few minutes ago asking to speak to you. I didn't think you'd want him to see you looking as dirty as a plow horse at the end of a full day of planting, so I invited him to supper to give him a chance to talk to you then. He'll be here in about an hour.” Then Ivy walked right back out of the room, giving Martha no time to argue with her.

“Am I really as dirty as a plow horse?” Martha asked and looked down at her skirts, which were coated with dust and grime.

She was actually caught by surprise when Jane answered her. “Just a bit more than I am, but I think once you wash off
all that dirt on your face, you'll look like yourself again. Now scoot. I'll finish up here while you get ready for Thomas. I assume he's someone important to you, isn't he?”

Martha smiled and left the room with Jane's question hanging in the air. There were many things Martha was willing to share with Jane and talk about. Thomas was just not one of them.

Supper was finally over.

The food had been delicious. The company had been more than enjoyable. Martha had even worn her Sunday dress for the occasion. Even so, her stomach was in knots as she walked with Thomas down the hallway when he was ready to leave.

He opened the back door and walked down the two steps before he turned around to bid her good night, his face level with hers and bathed in light from the hallway.