LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

and then April Mae’s hand tightened around her wrist.

      “It’s coming!” she cried.

      And it was. After another fierce, long contraction, April Mae’s baby girl slid into the world, screaming at the indignity of it all, with a thatch of black hair as thick as her drummer father’s.

      By the time Sarah Walker arrived half an hour later, breathing hard and rubbing her distended abdomen, they had the squalling baby wiped off and wrapped up warmly, and she had taken her first suckle from her mother. April Mae had fallen asleep with a weary smile on her face after telling Maude the baby’s name was Hannah.

      Mrs. Meyer had gone downstairs to make coffee, which Maude sorely needed. April Mae well deserved the rest she was taking, but Maude had resolved to stay awake until she was assured that all was well with mother and child.

      “I see you’ve taken care of everything,” Sarah said to Maude. “See, you didn’t need me after all. How is she?”

      Maude motioned for Sarah to leave the room with her. “We’ll be right back, Ella.”

      Her friend looked up from where she sat holding the sleeping baby and nodded. “We’re not going anywhere.”

      “I’m worried about her, Sarah. She lost too much blood. Did you see how pale she was?”

      Sarah nodded, her face solemn. “Did you check her abdomen?”

      Maude knew she referred to whether or not the womb had firmed up again after the delivery. The difference could be felt through the skin. If it hadn’t, April Mae might continue to bleed. “It’s still softer than I’d like, but I kneaded it.” Both women knew rubbing the area firmly could make the womb tighten up and stop the bleeding.

      “You’ll have to keep checking every so often. Why don’t we pray, and enlist the help of the Great Physician?” Sarah suggested, holding out her hands to Maude, and together they stood in the shadowy hallway, as Sarah began, “Lord, we come to You in great need of Your healing touch for April Mae Horvath...”

      * * *

      “So yer trip inta town was an utter failure, Jonas?” Coira MacLaren inquired from her rocking chair near the fire. Her brogue was as thick as a stack of Scottish oatcakes, as if she’d just disembarked the ship that had carried her and Jonas from Scotland this month rather than six years ago. Though her son sat behind her, not wanting to be so close to the heat, she didn’t turn to aim her disapproval. She knew quite well the power of her spiteful words. Whether she faced him or not, she could be certain they would hit the mark. They always did.

      Still, Jonas was glad she couldn’t see his involuntary stiffening. “I didn’t find anyone looking for work whom I thought suitable to see to tend you, Mother, but I wouldn’t call the trip a total waste of time,” he said, keeping his tone calm. “I had a pleasant meal.” One free of your carping. He wasn’t about to tell her he’d attended the barbecue put on by the Simpson Creek Spinsters’ Club or she’d be on him again about marrying and producing a bairn or two before she died.

      Before he’d gone into town, he’d been vague about the details of his intended trip, only implying that he’d be in a position to speak to several females about becoming his mother’s companion.

      “Whatever you ate, ’twas nothing you couldn’t have gotten from Senora Morales without wasting precious coin,” his mother grumbled. “But I warn you, Jonas, the time will come, and soon, when that poor overworked woman will refuse to do all the cooking and cleaning and tending of your old mother, and then she’ll quit altogether. Then where will you be? It’s not as if you could do all of that extra work and still tend your ranch, could you? You didn’t speak to a single lass about hiring on here?”

      An image of Maude Harkey’s riot of red curls and eyes the hue of spring bluebonnets swam into his head. “Aye, I did speak to one, but she didn’t want the job,” he said, and hoped his mother would leave it at that.

      “Just one? You’d said you’d be able to speak to several,” Coira MacLaren snapped.

      His mother’s health wasn’t robust, but there was nothing wrong with her memory, unfortunately. Her mind was sharp as a dirk and her tongue just as cutting. He’d learned to cope by pretending nothing she said affected him, or sometimes, when his temper was truly frayed, by responding in kind, but it didn’t make him feel better to do so.

      “There were, but I thought the one I spoke to was the best candidate.” He couldn’t say why he thought so, other than the air of competence Maude Harkey wore like a shield—and the firmness of her resolve that made him believe she might be a match for even his mother’s cantankerousness. It certainly wasn’t that he was attracted to her for his own sake. No, he was done with all that.

      “Did you think to be a miser and offer her less than the thirty dollars a month we agreed upon?” his mother asked, suspicion threaded through her voice like the tightest-woven wool tartan.

      It was ironic that she accused him of miserliness—normally it was his mother who took Scottish frugality to the extreme.

      “No.” He hadn’t even gotten to the subject of wages, as he recalled. As soon as Maude Harkey learned what he was asking, she’d refused to consider his proposition outright. Now he wished he had gone ahead and taken the time to meet some of the other young ladies at the barbecue. He shouldn’t have let the redheaded Miss Harkey blind him to the possible suitability of the others. As he’d said, it wasn’t as if he was seeking a wife.

      “Well, you’d best be searching for some way to convince a woman to come out here,” his mother continued. “I’ve no time for your nonsense or your dillydallying.”

      Jonas gritted his teeth and forced himself not to respond. After all, his mother wasn’t entirely wrong. He did need to find her a companion as soon as possible. He resolved that he would make another trip into town, as soon as he could find the time to get away from the ranch.

      And this time, he wouldn’t leave until he’d found a woman who’d say yes.

       Chapter Three

      After their middle-of-the-night ordeal, Maude slept right through Sunday breakfast. When she finally awoke, she felt a pleasant sense of accomplishment. Despite April Mae’s sudden and entirely unexpected appearance on their doorstep, they had helped her deliver a beautiful, healthy baby. Maude’s father would have been proud.

      She couldn’t help grinning. There was a baby in the boardinghouse, a pink innocent creature all fresh and new, with that incomparable baby smell. Soon they’d have to do what they could to track down tiny Hannah’s errant father and insist he do right by April Mae and their child, but for now, Maude could enjoy the presence of an infant in her dreary life for her to care for.

      Excited about the prospect of holding tiny Hannah, Maude dressed, washed her hands with water from the ewer, dried them on a towel and left her room. She’d go to church, then on to Ella’s café and help her friend there for awhile, but she couldn’t resist taking a few minutes to cuddle the baby first and see if the new mother was resting all right.

      She found Mrs. Meyer had beaten her to it. The old woman was sitting in the rocking chair in April Mae’s room, humming, little Hannah in her arms. An old wooden cradle sat on the floor between the bed and the rocking chair. Mrs. Meyer must have brought it down from the attic, Maude thought. Had it been from that long-ago time when the proprietress had been a young mother? How nice that it was getting used again.

      April Mae’s eyes were closed, but she opened them at the creaking of the opening door. Her gaze darted first to the infant, then, satisfied, to Maude.

      “How are you feeling?”

      “Tired. Sore...but ain’t she purty?” April Mae said, smiling at her child, her eyes bright with pride.

      Mrs. Meyer rose and handed Maude the baby. “I’d better go start

Скачать книгу