First Dawn (21 page)
Jarena watched while the preacher tallied the votes in favor of Mr. Lovejoy. It didn’t take long: not many agreed with his position.
Ivan looked disgusted. “This is a mistake.”
“Wilbur, I think you should leave t’morrow at first light,” Reverend Mason said. “We’ll pray you come back wid a full load of supplies.”
“We need the wagons and horses. Wilbur oughta take the train,” Herman Kemble suggested.
“You got da money for train fare?” someone asked.
Herman kicked his boot at a clump of buffalo grass.
“No need to be hard on yerself,” Ezekiel said, patting Herman on the back. “I was thinkin’ the very same thing. Kind of frightenin’ to let loose of one of our teams and a wagon.”
An appreciative smile curved Herman’s lips and he nodded. “Guess we gotta take a chance or we’ll starve to death fer certain—and that’s a terrible hard way to die.”
In the gray light of daybreak the next morning, a small group gathered to bid Wilbur farewell and pray for his safety. Ezekiel and Jarena were among those present.
“Things is gonna be jest fine,” Ezekiel whispered to his daughter. Wrapping his arm around her narrow shoulders, he looked into her eyes and gave her arm a gentle squeeze. She longed to share his confidence; instead, her heart was filled with apprehension of what lay ahead.
A
sharp scream pierced the still countryside and shattered the silent beauty of the bright white snowfall that blanketed the town of Nicodemus. Jarena startled awake and sat up in bed with her eyes opened wide. She held her breath and listened.
“Pappy! Did you hear that?” Her voice was ragged. Trembling, she yanked her blanket up around her neck.
“Coyote,” her father mumbled in response.
In his bed across the room, Thomas rolled to his side. “That weren’t no coyote. Sounded human to me.” His voice was low and filled with worry.
Before Jarena could answer, another shrill cry cracked through the still December night. Thomas jumped up from his pallet and hurried to the makeshift door of their dugout while Jarena waited in her bed. When Thomas said nothing, she wrapped the worn blanket around her shoulders and padded across the cold dirt floor to join him.
“You see anything?” Jarena stood by his side and stared into the mantle of snow shrouding the small community. The stark white coverlet sparkled in the moonlight and shed an unexpected brightness upon the mounded dwellings. She shivered as a blast of frigid air brushed her cheeks with a frosty kiss.
“No, but I’m sure that noise wasn’t no animal howlin’. Wait! Look over toward Calvin and Nellie’s place. Is the door open?” They waited and watched, straining to see any sign of movement. “It’s Calvin. He’s comin’ outside.”
“Miss Hattie ailing?” Jarena called out, her voice carrying on the cold night air like a clanging bell.
Calvin lifted his lantern higher. “That you, Jarena?”
“Yes. Is something wrong over to your place?”
Calvin ran toward them with the lantern dangling from his hand. “It’s Nellie. The baby’s comin’, and she’s havin’ trouble.”
“What’s goin’ on?” Ezekiel called from his bed. “A man can’t get no sleep in this here place. Close that door—you’s lettin’ this little bit of heat get outside.”
“It’s Nellie—she’s having the baby, Pappy. Calvin’s on his way over here.”
Truth sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. “Why’s Jarena and Thomas at the door, Pappy?”
Calvin’s eyes were filled with fear as he stomped the snow off his feet. “Sorry for the mess—and for wakin’ up everybody, but Nellie’s doing poorly and Miss Hattie’s plumb wore out. Can you come and spell her for a while, Jarena?”
She flashed a questioning look at her father.
“Jarena don’ know nothin’ ’bout birthing a child, Calvin. Best to get Mildred Kemble. She’s a good midwife. Won’t hurt none for Jarena to go along and lend a hand with boiling water and such, if she be needed.”
Calvin wrung his hands. “I think having Jarena there would give Nellie some comfort. She’s in an awful lot of pain. Miss Hattie said she don’ think the baby’s turned right.”
“Now, don’t go borrowin’ no trouble. Wait and see what Mildred has to say. She’s brought more babies into this world than Miss Hattie has. You get on over to the Kemble place and fetch her back to your dugout. If Mildred can’t come, then fetch Caroline Holt. Jarena will be over shortly.” There was a calmness to her father’s voice that appeared to strengthen Calvin.
Once Calvin was out the door, Grace and Truth settled back under their blankets, and Ezekiel sat on the edge of his narrow bed. “You go over and help out for a while, Jarena. They’s likely worryin’ when there ain’t no cause, but if having you around will ease Nellie a bit, then that’s the least you can do fer your friend.”
“What about breakfast?”
“Truth and Grace can both cook jest fine. ’Sides, soon as you leave, we’re all goin’ back to sleep. It’ll be at least an hour ’til sunup.”
Jarena pulled an old blanket along the rope that separated her bed from the men and quickly donned her dress and stockings before pulling on her worn leather shoes. She hastily pulled the blanket down from the rope and tucked it across her lumpy bed, all the time hoping Nellie wasn’t suffering overly much. Her stomach lurched at the thought.
Her father laced his fingers together. “You want me to walk ya over dere?”
He hadn’t made a move to get into his boots or coat. Jarena’s lips formed a gentle smile. Although it was far from warm in their dugout, she knew her father didn’t want to venture out into the frosty night air. It wasn’t far to the Harris dugout, and the moonlight would radiate light off the snow to brighten her path. “You go on back to sleep, Pappy; you too, Thomas. I can see just fine. There’s no need for anyone else to get out in this cold.”
“Tell Nellie we be prayin’ for her,” her father said.
Jarena shrugged into her coat and grabbed a folded blanket from the foot of the bed before brushing her father’s cheek with a kiss. “I’ll tell her.”
As she walked across the crusted snow, Jarena wondered if her father’s prayers would do any more for Nellie than they had done for her mother when she lay dying. Another scream disturbed the nighttime silence. She quickened her pace. If they had still been living in Georgetown, Nellie would have had a doctor available. But out in this wilderness, there would be no one but a midwife and God. And Jarena wasn’t certain He would be paying attention.
She knocked on the wobbly door and then pushed it open without waiting. Nellie’s moans filled the one-room dugout, and Jarena’s pulse quickened as she glanced about. Miss Hattie was sitting on her bed while Calvin paced back and forth in front of her. Mildred Kemble had arrived and was sitting on a wooden box beside Nellie and Calvin’s bed.
Jarena hung her coat on a peg inside the door and hastily stomped the snow from her shoes. “How’s she doing?” she whispered to Miss Hattie. Her friend’s eyes were closed and her moans had stopped.
Miss Hattie crooked her finger, and Jarena went and sat down beside the old woman. “Mildred jest checked Nellie, and she says the baby ain’t turned right. She’s gonna try and force it around, but it’ll be painful—least that’s what Mildred said.”
Jarena gave an involuntary shudder and then leaned closer to Miss Hattie. “How’s she going to do that?”
“Don’ know. Sounds as though she’s gonna do some kind of twisting on her belly. She said Nellie needs to stay relaxed while she works on her. From what she said, I don’ think Mildred’s had much luck with it in the past, but she’s gotta try somethin’.”
Mildred motioned to Jarena. “Come on over here, gal. You talk to Nellie and try to keep her calm while I set to workin’ on her.”
Jarena truly didn’t want to be nearby while the woman inflicted pain upon her friend, but she did as she was told.
Mrs. Kemble stood up and pointed to the box where she’d been sitting. “Go ahead and sit down there. Hold her hand and talk to her for a few minutes.”
Jarena appraised Mrs. Kemble, uncertain whether she wanted to play a role in the older woman’s ministrations. “You won’t hurt her, will you?”
“Jest do as you’re told,” Mildred sternly replied.
For what seemed an eternity, Jarena sat beside Nellie babbling about the cold weather and the celebration they’d had when Thomas had killed a jackrabbit a few days earlier. “That rabbit was the first meat we’ve had in a long time, and I boiled the bones for soup. I’m going to bring some over for you later today.”
Mrs. Kemble placed her hands on Nellie’s swollen belly and began her attempt to turn the baby. Nellie screamed, arched her back, and then grasped Jarena’s hand with such force she was certain her fingers must be broken.
“Try to calm her! She needs to relax!” Mrs. Kemble hollered above Nellie’s piercing squeal.
“How’s she supposed to relax when you’re hurting her?” Jarena shouted in return. Calvin took his pacing straight out the door. Obviously, he could endure the cold weather more easily than watching his wife suffer any longer.
The older woman ignored Jarena’s question as easily as she ignored Nellie’s plaintive cries. While Jarena kept her gaze focused upon Nellie’s contorted face, Mrs. Kemble continued twisting and manipulating Nellie’s belly. Jarena tried everything she could think of, but nothing seemed to ease the pain.
A rush of cold air signaled Calvin’s return. “You’ve gotta stop—she can’t take no more of dis.”
Mrs. Kemble nodded in agreement. “You’s right. I don’ think I moved the baby much, and she needs to save her energy for when da pain gets worse.”
Nellie’s eyes fluttered open. “
Worse!
It’s gonna get
worse
?”
“She’s just talking, Nellie. Nobody can feel your pain, so there’s no way of knowing whether it will get any worse, but it sure isn’t going to do any good to worry.” Jarena tried hard to believe her own words. “Try to relax before the next pain comes. I’m going to run back over to the dugout and tell one of the twins to heat up some soup for you. You need to eat something that will give you some strength.”
Jarena looked at Mrs. Kemble for some sign of reassurance, but the older woman had already moved away from the bed and was slipping into her coat. “I’ll be back after I see to a few chores at home. Gotta make sure my young’uns is fed, and it don’t look like Nellie’s gonna be givin’ birth any time soon.”
“What about Mrs. Holt? Do you think she’d have some advice?” Jarena asked before Mrs. Kemble could escape.
There was no doubt the suggestion offended Mrs. Kemble. “Caroline ain’t been midwifin’ anywhere near as long as me. Next best thing to me is gonna be a doctor, and I ain’t seen one of them wanderin’ about this town, have you?”
Jarena wagged her head back and forth. “I didn’t mean to insult you, Mrs. Kemble. I’m just worried about Nellie.”
“Truth! Grace! I need to take some soup to Nellie,” Jarena called out the minute she entered the dugout. “Can you heat up some of that soup we were planning for the noonday meal?”
Grace’s eyes shone with excitement. “Did she have a boy or a girl?”
“Neither—she’s not given birth yet.”
The twins looked disappointed. “I’ll set the soup over da fire,” Truth said, “but it’ll be some time afore it’s hot enough for eatin’.”
Jarena grasped her sister’s hand. “If you put some in the small pan, it will heat faster and then I can get back right away.” She grabbed a small pot and handed it to her sister before turning her attention to her father. “Things aren’t going well, and Mrs. Kemble hasn’t been able to get the baby turned. She said the best thing would be a doctor. I’m afraid Nellie’s going to die, Pappy. She’s in terrible pain, and I don’t know how long she can go on like this. On the way home, Mrs. Kemble said if the baby didn’t turn, it would die.”
Ezekiel rubbed the stubble that covered his jaw. “There’s a doctor in Hill City—leastwise that’s what Mr. Hepple tol’ me when I was down in Ellis. Sounds as though I oughtta take the horse and see if I can make it over dere.”
Shaking her head, Jarena sat down opposite her father. “It’s begun to snow again, Pappy. I don’t know if you should go. What would we do if something happened to you?”
“I’ll go,” Thomas volunteered. Everyone turned toward him as he entered the dugout. “Only thing I’m worried about is takin’ a horse with me. If something should happen and we’d lose another horse . . . S’pose we oughtta see how folks will feel about that?” There was a hint of fear in Thomas’s voice.
“I ain’t gonna waste time tryin’ to get everyone’s agreement,” Ezekiel said. “You best dress as warm as you kin. You’ll be lucky if you can make it by nightfall in these conditions. Jest keep yourself headed due west. You best eat a good meal and take along some of dat cornpone afore you leave—and stop by the Harris place. Tell Calvin you’re goin’ to fetch the doctor and that you need to borrow his shotgun.”
A short time later Jarena lifted the small pan of soup from the fire and then walked alongside Thomas toward the Harris dugout. “Have you been in snowstorms like this before?” she asked, her teeth chattering from the cold.
“I spent one winter in Massachusetts ’fore headin’ west the nex’ spring. It’s mighty cold up north, and they have more’n their share of snow in dem parts.”
“Did you go there when you were very young?”
He stopped in his tracks. “I don’ like talkin’ about my past. Ain’t nothing there I wanna remember.”
“Not even your mammy and pappy?”
He frowned. “No, Jarena, not even them. They’s dead and gone. In a better place than this—least that’s what dey believed.”
“You don’t believe in heaven or that you’ll see them again—when you die?”
“I’m not sure.” He shrugged. “I don’ spend much time worryin’ ’bout death. Figure when it’s my time, I’ll die, and iffen dere’s a heaven, maybe I’ll be good enough to get in.”
“Fortunately for all of us, being good isn’t how we gain entry into heaven. If that were the case, no one would ever get in—we could never be good enough to deserve an eternity in heaven. You know that, don’t you? The Bible tells us the only way into heaven is by accepting Christ as our personal Savior. Have you done that, Thomas? Accepted Jesus as your personal Savior?”
