Christie (32 page)

"I will ask," said Laughing Bear.

He put the question to her in Cherokee as three strained, anxious faces looked on!

The answer came in a grunt and an affirmative nod.

"Thank God!" breathed Jesse.

"Praise the Lord!" shouted Lula.

The scrubbing was accomplished in due haste, and White Fire Woman ascended the stairs to Christie's chamber. Only Laughing Bear went with her. He, too, had washed.

Waiting downstairs in the foyer, Garrett, Jesse, and Lula heard the seconds go by with the ticking of the tall case clock in the corner. Ten minutes . . . twenty .. .

Suddenly a faint, thin wail sounded from the room upstairs, and Garrett wondered who had let one of the barn cats into the house before he realized the cry was that of a human, a very new and tiny human, and with a leap, he was tearing up the stairs toward his wife's room.

Laughing Bear met him at the door. Behind him the tiny cries were becoming stronger.

"A healthy male," he said.

"Christie?" questioned Garrett, looking toward the bed.

"She is weak, but she should live," answered the brave.

For a moment Garrett closed his eyes, lowering his
head and turning away. Then he took a long, deep breath and entered the room.

White Fire Woman approached him with the small squalling bundle in her arms. When she stood in front of Garrett, she pulled back the blanket in which his son had been wrapped so that he might see, smiling as she did this. The infant drew up its tiny legs and cried all the harder, waving small clenched fists in the air.

Garrett murmured words of thanks to the squaw in Cherokee and then turned toward the bed. Softly, he stepped toward it.

Christie's eyes were closed and her state seemed to be no different from her earlier, unconscious one. For a terrible moment Garrett wondered if Laughing Bear had been wrong. Then she opened her eyes and saw him.

"Garrett? Garrett, are you really here?" Every syllable registered awed disbelief.

Garrett sat on the edge of the bed and leaned close. "Here, Christie," he whispered, reaching one hand up slowly to touch her cheek, "Thank you for my son."

There was a long, long silence as Christie's tired, questioning eyes searched his. Then she reached up her own slim hand and placed it over his as it rested on her cheek.

"And thank you for mine," she answered, smiling weakly at him, whereupon she closed her eyes and was asleep.

Garrett left her then, and went into the sitting room where a makeshift bed had been made up for him by Jasper who, he now saw, had fallen asleep in
the large wing chair near the fireplace. Smiling at the sleeping boy, Garrett took a blanket from the bed and covered him. Then he walked to the windows and looked out. The dawn was beginning to break, its rosy fingers stretching their soft light over the distant hills and nearer valley that held the fields and lawns of Riverlea.

Running a hand over the stubble of beard on his chin, he realized it had been over twenty-four hours since he'd slept, and yet, somehow, he didn't feel tired enough to sleep now.

A curious play of emotions was at work within him. He had a son! Smiling, he pictured the tiny creature now resting in the cradle in the room beyond the one where his young wife lay sleeping. Christie . . . Once again he experienced astonishment at tonight's double revelation: that he had a child and that the child's mother
loved him!

But more astonishing now was the realization that came to him with all the force of an earthshaking blow to his being, a realization that had begun to take shape earlier in the night when the thought that she might die had filled him with a terror he had not thought possible.
He loved her!
With this admission he was at once overcome by a huge wave of relief as he recognized the source of all the turbulent emotions which had beset him for the better part of the past year. He loved her! With a sudden surge of joy at what this new-found knowledge brought, he almost ran back to the room where she slept, aching to tell her of his love, longing to hold her close and smooth away all traces of past pain and remembered hurt. But he stopped himself as some more troubling thoughts crept into his mind. The accusation he had
made concerning the babe's parentage had been a despicable act. No matter that he now could understand its origins in terms of the jealous rage that had swept over him only because it had its roots in the buried feelings of love he had really borne her all along. It had been the lowest piece of behavior he had ever engaged in, and while Jesse might forgive him—had, in fact, already done so—how could he expect her to do the same? Even now, might that love she had unwittingly declared have been turned to hatred because of the unspeakably cruel words he'd hurled that night? Could she still love him after that?

Painfully, he considered the question, at last deciding that somehow she must, for the alternative was unthinkable. Then he began to formulate a plan to approach his wife and, by loving, considerate behavior, to win back her love, if it had already ebbed, or ensure it and make it grow, if it still abided there.

"I never really courted or won her with any overt actions," he thought. "I just assumed she was there for the taking, like all the other things in my life I've taken by force and arrogance. When did I ever consider her feelings at all? Well, I do consider them now. That I should love her so totally! God, I hope I'm not too late! I'll court her, much as if we were not yet wed, as though to win her for my wife. I'll bide my time and be the gentle, gracious suitor, giving her every chance to see my better nature, and how much I care for her. Christielove, I hope to God you meet my suit. I love you. God, how I love you!" And with this new resolution firmly in mind, Garrett at last went to his bed and slept.

Chapter Twenty Four

It was early afternoon when Garrett awoke, and casting a quick glance at the crumpled clothes he'd slept in, called for a bath and his razor.

He had just finished dressing when he heard the sound of several raised voices coming from Christie's chamber, and in the background the unmistakable sound of an infant crying.

He had had his things moved to the room adjoining the sitting room next to his wife's chamber, and crossing through that sitting room now, he reached her door.

Christie was sitting up in bed. Never had she looked more beautiful, he thought, despite the faint shadows under her eyes; but the expression on her face was less than happy.

"But I
want
to nurse him, Doctor, Mattie, please! Lula, make them understand," said Christie, her voice threatening tears.

"Damn it, Mattie, what's going on?" shouted Garrett. "Why is my wife upset?"

"Oh, Garrett," cried Christie, "they won't let mc nurse the baby. They say I'm too weak, but I'm not,
honestly, and I
want
to!"

"Who
says this?" stormed Garrett as he went to Christie's side.

"I do," answered Dr. Harris.

"And I," echoed Dr. Barrett. "I've even brought a wet nurse from Charleston."

They were clustered about the hallway entrance to the room, the two doctors, Mistress Andrews, Mattie, and Lula. Then Lula approached Garrett, carrying his wailing son.

"It doesn't have to be all or nothing," she said, a stubborn tone to her voice. "Sometimes doctors don't know everything."

At the sounds of outrage coming from those at the door, Garrett held up his hand for silence.

"What do you have in mind, Lula?"

"She can start off easy—a minute or two, to begin—then build up to more, slowly. In the meantime, the wet nurse can handle the difference, until she gets stronger."

"Does that make sense to you?" Garrett asked, looking at the doctors.

"Well," mused Dr. Harris.

"Good! We'll
do
it! Lula, let me have the babe."

Then, his son in his arms, Garrett ushered the stunned group of professionals out into the hallway.

"Thank you ladies, gentlemen. If you'll excuse us? Lula, wait in the nursery, please."

"Yes, sir!"
beamed Lula.

The doors closed, Garrett carried the furious infant to Christie and sat on the bed's edge as he placed him carefully into her waiting arms.

Christie gave Garrett a grateful smile.
Then a knock came from Lula's side of the door.

"Only a minute on each side, now, Captain. No more!" she called.

"I'll
time
it!" growled Garrett, taking out his watch. "Now, will you let us be?"

There was silence, except, perhaps, for the briefest sound of muffled laughter behind the closed door as Christie bent to the task of undoing her gown. It was held up by tiny ribbons at each shoulder, arid as she struggled with them, she suddenly became aware of the imminent intimacy of her task, and looking shyly up at her husband, began to blush.

But Garrett only smiled tenderly back at her, and as she heard their son's crying grow fiercer, she returned to her task, lowering the gown and drawing the babe to her.

As he sensed the nearness of his long-awaited source of nourishment, the infant stopped his crying and began rooting frantically with his head and mouth, at last, finding what he sought and hungrily grabbing hold, he quieted.

At this rapid change in his behavior, both parents raised their heads and looked at each other in astonishment, then burst into delighted laughter. As their laughter ebbed, they were left gazing at each other and remained thus for a long moment, each hardly daring to breathe, lest the delicate fragility of the moment be broken. At length, Garrett glanced at his watch.

"Time to change sides," he said softly.

Gently, Christie disengaged the infant's furiously working mouth, at the same time undoing the other side of her gown. The babe puckered up his brow as if
in readiness to resume his fussing, but his
mother,
already finding herself more adept at this aspect
of
motherhood, maneuvered him quickly to the appropriate spot, and once again he fed contentedly.

At the gentle tugging at her breast, Christie felt a warm shiver of delight course through her body, and she sighed with the pleasure of it. "Isn't he beautiful?" she asked, gently smoothing down the soft mat of dark hair on her son's head. Privately, she was thinking how much he already resembled Garrett, noting the shape of the tiny jaw, the line of the miniature eyebrows. Lula had already assured her, judging from his inordinate length, he would be very tall.

"Yes, and something of a miracle," said Garrett, "especially when I consider how close he came to not making it."

He w
^?
as looking at Christie now, his gaze so warm, she flushed and looked away.

"Lula says he came into the world backward," she murmured.

"It's just like a Randall, not to do things the easy way." Garrett chuckled. He looked at his watch again. "The second minute's up, I'm afraid, but, Lord, look at him feed! I'll warrant he isn't going to like this interruption!"

The infant proceeded to bear out his words, for when Christie removed him this time, he screwed up his tiny features at the interruption and began to howl in protest.

"A lusty lad," said Garrett taking him from Christie and carrying him toward the nursery.

The door opened and Lula, appearing to take the
squalling child, said, "Hush, now, young Randall. We've got a second course coming!"

Then the door closed, and they were alone again. As Garrett returned to the bed, he found Christie fumbling awkwardly with the ribbons at her shoulder, and stilling her hands with his, he began to tie them for her.

"We must find a name for young Master Randall, Christie."

' The touch of his fingers at her shoulders sent a thrill of pleasure through her, and Christie swallowed hard before she spoke.

"I—I've given it some thought. Your father's name was Jeremy, wasn't it?"

"Yes," said Garrett. "Or he was called by that name, although it was formally, Adam Jeremy. The second name was used to distinguish him better from his father, who bore the same name and was called Adam. I rather favor the name Adam myself."

He had completed the retying of her gown, and now he gently took a long lock of her hair which had become caught under one ribbon and pulled it loose, laying it carefully upon her breast.

"Adam Jeremy, then?" questioned Christie, her voice barely beyond a whisper. "And we'll call him Adam?"

"Adam it is." He smiled. "And now, madam, I think it's time you had some rest."

"Oh, must you leave so soon?" asked Christie. She had begun to relax and bask in this seemingly wondrous, newfound mood of Garrett's, not entirely sure what to make of it just yet, but wanting to cling to it for fear if she didn't, it might evaporate and