Back To Our Beginning (51 page)

“You mad at me?” Cord asked.

“No. Well maybe jist a little,” Clint admitted.

“It just kind of happened.”

“You in love with her?” Clint asked.

“Maybe...well hell, that sucks.”

“Yeah, it sure does.”

“She’s so damn irritating at times,” Cord said grumbling.

“That’s true,” Clint agreed.

“She’s bossy.”

“Sure is.”

“When she gets mad, she hits me or throws things.”

“Sure does,” Clint said chuckling. He’d been on the receiving end of Tansy’s fury.

“But she’s the only woman I ever met who’s not afraid of me. The way she stands toe to toe with me and argues, hell you’d think we were married.”

“Guess so.”

“You want to hit me again?”

Clint gazed at him. “No. But can I have visitation rights with Mike?” His affection for the child was very real.

“Hell yes. But believe it or not, I want her back. Damn she’s a sweet kid, and just like her mother,” Cord said fondly and was quite surprised at his admission. He’d never pictured himself to be a family man; he was surprised at how comfortable he was becoming in the role, especially now that Michaela sought him out on her own, the way she obviously adored his attention.

They both turned in. After tucking the covers up around Michaela, Cord climbed into bed beside Tansy, and though sleeping she reached for him, snuggling into his warmth, mumbling a soft endearment. Cord wrapped his arms around her and decided he liked irritating women, well at least one irritating woman.

* * * *

A terrified scream shattered the silence, waking everyone in the mine. Cord, Clint and Ethan were all on their feet in less than a heartbeat. Aidan emerged from behind his partition dragging Emmy. The scream sounded again. It was coming from the bottom of the mine. Looking around with familiarity at their designated sleeping spaces Tansy determined Rose was missing.

“It’s Rose.” She lunged toward the back of the mine but found herself snatched up off her bare feet in mid-flight.

“Stay!” Cord commanded to her, his mind reflecting to the lion, and set her down near the fire, he then leveled the same fierce look on Shanie who looked ready to bolt. He grabbed up his hunting knife as did Aidan, Ethan, Clint and Danny and they took off at a run for the lower part of the mine carrying torches. They returned soon enough with Ethan cradling Rose in his arms. There had been no threat they could determine. Rose whimpered to Ethan she hadn’t wanted to disturb anyone, she was in labor.

“I think it’s too soon,” Tansy told Becky.

Ethan laid Rose on a bed. Becky checked between Rose’s legs. “The baby’s already coming I see its head, it’s crowning.”

“So soon?” Tansy asked.

Rose lay unconscious, she was bleeding heavily. Tansy had them boil water. They would need it to cool before they could bathe her or the baby. They would also need to steep a tea for pain.

“I didn’t even have time to wash my hands,” Becky said fretfully, she reached for the infant as he slipped with her assistance from Rose’s torn opening.

Becky cleaned the mucus and fluid from his nose and mouth. She cut the umbilical cord with a sharp knife they set aside sterilized for this purpose. She tapped the small feet and then puffed into his mouth, with one finger she pumped on his tiny chest. But even Tansy’s untrained eye could see the baby was beyond hope, his tiny face was grayish blue. He was stillborn.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do anything for him,” Becky said, finally sitting back in defeat, though she realized the baby had been gone for a while and the venture hopeless, she’d had to try.

They wrapped the infant in the blanket Rose made so painstakingly for her baby and turned their attention to the young girl. Rose was losing a great deal of blood and roused only long enough to help deliver the placenta. She succumbed to the merciful safety of oblivion as Becky stitched her.

Emmy and Shanie sobbed, holding each other. The men, feeling helpless attended the other children, soothing their fears as best they could as morning ascended. Aidan’s fears rampaged as he looked to the motionless tiny pale young girl and the swaddled dead infant.

“Emmy is older and stronger, she’ll be fine,” Ethan said, looking at his distraught friend. “We all knew Rose was way too young and abused badly. She was undernourished and beaten in her crucial early months. Emmy wasn’t, you’ve taken fine care of her my friend.” He placed a comforting hand on his best friends shoulder. Though the looks Aidan received from the other men told him his own thoughts and fears plagued them all.

“It’ll be different for Emmy, like it was with me,” Stacie said.

She brought Bart to the fire to feed him. The baby played momentarily before latching on, grinning and cooing at his adoring mother. He’d grown stronger and healthier daily, his weight gain impressive. Aidan looked at him with such hope and longing Stacie reached to clasp his hand. Soon after she handed a full and sleeping Bart over to Clint, who held him tucked in one arm, though a worried frown adorned his face.

Michaela climbed onto Cord’s lap to keep a close eye on the baby. Though Clint’s attention of her never wavered, she found Cord’s growing attention helped curve the jealous feelings she had been having in the beginning upon the baby’s arrival. Michaela was unnoticing of Cord’s thoughtful expression. He pulled her tighter to his chest, his large hand unconsciously stroking the top of her head. For the first time, Cord wondered if somewhere out there a child born of him had been conceived and had lived, or died as Rose’s had because of the circumstances. Was it possible he was a father?

Max also climbed up onto Cord’s lap while casting an anxious glance toward his sister, wondering why she was unmoving. When he asked the others they pretended they hadn’t seen the question.

“Why won’t she wake up?” Tansy whispered.

“Trauma. She’s so young to be giving birth. The baby, even though born early was too big for her tiny frame,” Becky answered.

“Will she die?” Emmy asked.

“She’s strong. She’s lost a great deal of blood, but we have to have hope. The worst part will be when she hears she’s lost the baby. Even after all that had been done to her, I understand she wanted him a great deal,” Becky said. She placed another blanket over the girl and they all waited with hope.

Two days passed before Rose regained consciousness. She was weak and wanted to see her baby but fell asleep soon after given broth to drink. The next time she woke she was more coherent.

“My baby?”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart; he didn’t make it,” Tansy told her.

Rose closed her eyes then reached for her brother who had approached, greatly relieved his sister had awakened. She then sobbed pitifully. Soon the women and girls added their crying to hers. The men, also saddened for the young girl who had already suffered so much, did their best to offer what comfort they could. The entire group pressed to one another, each individual clasping with compassion at the distraught girl’s arms or legs, wanting her to feel their presence and support. Rose’s loss was everyone’s loss; they all felt her pain.

* * * *

The days passed with agonizing slowness. Rose’s recovery was gradual but the attention of everyone in the mine kept her from succumbing to despair. She maturely divided up the baby clothes she made between Stacie and Emmy. Aidan sought out more reassurance from Becky for Emmy’s delivery. Tansy told him she had a relatively easy birth with Emmy and Shanie but didn’t elaborate on Michaela’s, not wanting to frighten him.

Michaela came running to her mother one beautiful sunny morning and produced a crocus. Tansy took it happily. It had been with relief that the partitions had been opened for a brief part of the day for the last little while. Although the snow could still fly, the change in the weather was apparent to them all and the fresh air was welcome.

“Spring,” Tansy declared; her fist closed around the flower in victory. They survived the winter. “Look Cord, it’s spring.”

“So, Mother Nature will allow the cycle to begin again.”

Cord clutched Tansy to his chest with one arm, gazing at her adoringly and reached for Michaela with the other. With a laugh, he tossed the child into the air and recaptured her to his chest, chuckling as she squealed with delight. He snuggled them both. The bond had formed. Cord remembered a time when he wondered at Clint’s despair at losing his family, then desperately seeking another. Cord was right about his search for the answer being entertaining and most definitely interesting; he was amazed at the thought that it was also rewarding. For once in his life, Cord had a fleeting moment’s idea in this particular area Clint had been smarter; it was definitely a revelation.

As he gazed into the faces of the smiling woman and child, an overwhelming thought entered his mind...his, they were his. As Michaela rubbed her nose affectionately against Cord’s cheek in a familiar gesture, he realized he was theirs, he had a family. Looking around at the others, he realized he belonged, he was wanted, needed. He found his answer, Clint
had
been right. It
was
well worth the search. Cord realized the journey was still beginning. It was a challenge they were all going to have to face. He for one was looking forward to the adventure.

Mid-spring, the women once again cried after the birth of Emmy’s son, Raidan. Named for Aidan and his mentor Ray. This time, they were tears of happiness. The beautiful boy was estimated at eight pounds, he resembled his father a great deal with his shock of dark black hair and dark almost-black eyes.

Aidan was filled with relief and pride. He brought Emmy an armload of wild flowers and they celebrated with a bountiful feast. Cord procured a doe and her young fawn. While Ethan and Shanie captured a cow and her calf. They dispatched her young one, excited about the milk they and everyone else could now partake in, penning the cow with the goat, making a sturdy corral.

Watch was taken by two people over their animals and a few chickens, when these were let out of the mine to graze in a small pen set up beyond the door. They spent many days clearing the rocks in the small area. On three sides of the opening, the rock cliffs rose straight up the hillside. The far opening was a good thirty feet high, making it a relatively safe area for the children to play outside when the animals were penned indoors.

Clint procured a plump turkey and handed it to Tansy cleaned, gutted and ready for the spit. Cord glared at him.

“Relax buddy, I hear it’s polar bears now,” Clint said laughing; he winked at Tansy.

“What does it matter? I’m a grandmother at thirty-six for heaven sake,” Tansy moaned; although, she was proud of her new grandson. Emmy had done well. The labor and delivery had been painful and long. The young woman had spirit and tenacity; she was indeed her mother’s daughter. Tansy couldn’t have been more thrilled.

Cord hugged Tansy to his side and nuzzled her neck. “So does this make me an honorary grandfather?”

Clint howled with unrestrained laughter. “You ain’t like any granddaddy I ever seen,” Clint whooped and slapped Cord on the back.

“Watch it, or I’ll run you over with my walker.”

“Run me over, hell Cord, you could swing a walker into next Tuesday.”

They’d thankfully weathered the winter without more than colds and runny noses Tansy and Becky were able to take care of. None had suffered overmuch in fearful ailments. Rose seemed happy much to everyone’s great joy. Though her loss had been tragic, she was young and strong. With the aid of those around her, she had persevered. Rose gradually eased back into the role of a new teen instead of an adult. She allowed the adults the harsh worries of their unstable situation and was able to play and relax while exploring a new interest in hunting beside Shanie and Danny.

Their small clan had grown to seventeen. Looking back, they remembered the fear and the pain and the uncertainty. It had grown into harsh reality and then acceptance. The fierce storms still raged with uncertainty and were irregular and deadly, the weather was an oddity. Their existence was precarious. They could only live one day at a time. It was enough for now. It had to be. How ironic the world seemed. To have started them all over again. In essence, back to our beginning.

C. L. Scholey—Please call me Connie! It’s been fantastic working with great publishers and following my dream of writing. When I’m not writing, I’m busy looking after my children, husband, grandkids and the family pet, our newest addition, a mastiff pup named Aramis, after the Three Musketeers. I’m currently working on way too much, as normal, but I love every second of it. Please feel free to contact me at [email protected]. Look me up on my web page www.clscholey.com or join me on Twitter and Facebook. I look forward to hearing from you.

For your reading pleasure, we invite you to visit our web bookstore