Love by Dawn (29 page)

“Damn these petticoats,” he groused almost
dropping the struggling bundle.

“Quit squirming, or we’ll both land on the
floor,” he scolded, not caring how gruff he sounded. “What’s wrong
with you, anyway? You care so little about your own welfare and the
baby’s.”

If she weren’t in pain, he would have
inflicted some on her cute bottom. God, he had a hard time gripping
her and staggered forward nearly tripping on the yards of material.
In an awkward fashion, he carried her upstairs, nearly dropping her
half way up when she screamed in pain, nearly deafening him.

“Please, Blake I’m all right. Please, I want
to get married.” She stared beseechingly into

his eyes with a frozen plea, her face flush
and anxious. “Pleeeease. Ohhh!” She convulsed, clutching her
stomach.

“Hell no!” he snapped.

She shuddered and took a deep breath. “It
won’t take long, just a few minutes,” she persisted.

“Woman, if you value your hide, you better
shut your trap!” This was utter nonsense.

Her eyes bugged opened. “How dare you?”

“I dare.”

But the stubborn mother-to-be was not to put
off by his temper.

“Preacher Gehrsitz!” she hollered, causing
Blake’s ears to tingle and ring again. “Come up here! I won’t let
my baby be born a bastard!” she yelped through another pain and
Blake rolled his eyes and prayed for strength.

Every guest heard her announcement; gasps and
murmurs followed. Liana scanned the room knowing by the guest’s
facial expressions that an uncomfortable atmosphere was felt by
all, especially her. Though it was no secret Casey was breeding,
they all gazed at her as she sat mortified on the sofa. Earlier,
she had been well enough to be carried down for the wedding, now
she was fanning her face. She loved that child dearly, but the girl
was different and difficult to be sure. She couldn’t help but smile
behind the fan. Her stubborn son had met his match.

“Preacher!” The man of the cloth’s name was
yelled out again from upstairs. The deep voice was no other than
her future daughter-in-law’s; no surprise to Liana and everyone.
That one was certainly steadfast, she thought. She looked up at the
poor preacher, who not knowing what to do tugged at his white
collar. Poor man, he was flabbergasted and people were looking from
him, to her.

“Go on preacher,” Liana said. “That girl
wants to get married and married she will be.”

The preacher nodded meekly and went up
stairs.

“You go too,” she pointed to Maggie. “They’ll
need all the help they can get.” The black girl’s face paled.

“But… but, Ah knows nothin’ about dis.”

“Well, then I guess it’s about time you
learn. And go fetch Mirabel, she’s birthed a few in her time.”

“Yes’um. Do Ah ost her to boil watuh?”

“No, they make the men do that just to keep
them busy,” informed Liana.

Maggie scooted out and did her mistress’
biding, wringing her hands nervously. Liana had to smile again
hearing the black servant mumbling to herself that she would
probably faint dead away, anyway.

Mirabel had heard all the screaming and
commotion and was on her way out of the kitchen when she bumped
into Maggie. It took her a few seconds to understand the girl’s
nervous gibberish and then she ran with the young maid on her
heels. By the time the preacher entered the room, she and Maggie
were not far behind. A tad breathless, Mirabel came to a quick stop
when she saw two men in the room and Maggie bumped into her.

“Out of my way,” she ordered trying to fill
her lungs with much needed air. “Everyone out!” she shouted and
rolled up her sleeves. “C’mon, get! Except you,” she grabbed the
nervous Negro girl by her sash. “You stay.” She had almost made it
out the door.

“Me?” Maggie gulped.

“Come, come.” Mirabel practically dragged the
maid over to the bed. She pushed past the preacher, her hand flying
as if she was shooing away insects. “Leave us, gentlemen!” she
bellowed. The preacher looked as if he was glad to go, but the
woman in labor stopped him short.

“No stay Preacher Gehrsitz! I’m going to get
married one way or another.”

“Humph! Young lady this is no place for men.”
Mirabel waved a scolding finger at the mother-to-be.

Casey shook her head unbending. The pink and
yellow rose buds flew out of her hair and some of her ringlets fell
down. “I don’t care. They stay.”

Mirabel looked at Master Blake for help, but
he just shrugged. That action told her that he

had no control over the matter, and that was
that. She rolled her eyes and blessed herself.

“Then the men must turn their backs while
Maggie and me undress you,” she said, her arms akimbo, her back
stiff and her mind made up. End of argument. So while the men’s
backs were turned, she undressed and put Miss Casey into a cotton
nightgown. All the time she cursed and wailed in pain.

“This ain’t right,” Mirabel grumbled, “what
are you thinking child, having these.---”

“Ohhh! God it hurts.” Miss Casey bit her lip
drawing blood.

Mirabel needed to examine her but she
couldn’t look at Miss Casey’s private area with men in the room.
She wasn’t one to be humbled easily, or blush, but this was a very
delicate situation and it had to be done.

She cleared her throat. “Err, ma’am, I need
to look… err, to see if....”

Casey got her meaning and even in pain she
didn’t miss the fact and so did the preacher who blushed beat red.
He began picking imaginary lint of his black coat, trying not to
let on he had heard. She glanced at Blake sensing that even that
rugged cowboy was a little uncom-fortable.

“Put a sheet over me and
Mag Pie can hold it up while you peek underneath. Blake and the
preacher will be too busy going ahead with my wedding to pay any
attention to you and what you’re doing. Now gentlemen if you would
be kind enough to... Owww!” She grabbed the brass bars at the head
of the bed and dug her heels into the mattress.
God, give me strength to get through this
. Never feeling so much physical pain in her life, she’d
never complain about her monthly cramps again.
Someday, little one, your mama will tell you what you put her
though.

Blake quickly sat and clenched her sweaty
fist. “I wish I could take the pain for you.”

Casey snorted. “It’s a good thing I’m in
pain, or I’d have a good laugh.” She saw the hurt in his eyes, but
didn’t care. He was not an innocent bystander.

“Darling, are you sure you want to do this
now?”

She misconstrued his question and snorted. “I
think your child has the say in the matter.”

It took a moment for him to get her meaning
and he retorted, “Not the baby, the wedding. Are you sure you..?”
Her stare was his answer.

He sighed. “All right. Preacher you heard the
lady, marry us.”

Preacher Gersitz opened the black
leather-bound book and turned to a dog-eared page, clearing his
throat. He said a few words, asking if any one had any objections
to this union. Casey snorted. The man of the cloth grunted knowing
it was a foolish question.

“Do you Cassandra take this--?”

“Ohhh, God, if you ever touch me again,” she
snarled through gritted teeth, “I’ll kill you.” Of course that
absurd remark rewarded her with light laughter.

“Blake?”

He shook his head. “Would I laugh at you at a
time like this?” And he managed to look convincingly offended.

“I doooo!” she screamed.

“Ahem, Oh, yes,” gulped the preacher and
continued. “Do you Blake take Cassandra for your lawful wedded wife
to have and to--?”

“Damnation! Say I do, already,” cried
Casey.

Blake wiped his brow with his shirt sleeve,
hesitating and gulped. “Y-yes, I mean…I…d-do.”

The words stuck in his throat too long and
Casey gave him a dirty look thinking he was having doubts, which
pained her more than what she was experiencing now. The next pain
made her squeeze his hand hard.

“Whoee! Ouch! Damn Casey, you almost broke my
fingers. Pregnant women are certainly strong.” If he was trying to
lighten the situation with a little humor, she didn’t appreciate it
and rewarded him with another dirty look.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” said
Preacher Gersitz, swiftly snapping the book shut. “This will be the
last marriage I’ll perform if a baby was on the way.” He left the
room in a blur.

“Push,” The muffled command
came from under the covers and Blake once again had his hand
gripped until the pain shot up his arm.
Well
..
, you
did say you’d take the pain for her. Be careful for what you wish
for
. His mother’s words came to
him.

“Push, harder,” instructed Mirabel.

Casey grunted and pushed, “I am. Jeezeeee! If
I push any harder my innards will be lying along side of the
babeeeee!”

This time Blake had to clear his throat to
camouflage a chuckle that escaped of its own will.

“Hold the sheet still, girl. You’re shaking
like a leaf in a wind storm,” snapped Mirabel at Maggie. He heard
Maggie gulp, looking mightily peeked. She was standing, behind the
cook, so the young servant couldn’t help but see. She cried, “Oh,
Lawdy! She gasped. “It’s comin’. Oh, Lawdy… Lawdy---”

“Stop blubbering,” snapped Mirabel and now
Blake whished he had followed the reverend out of the room. Without
warning, Maggie fainted dead away and the sheet fell over Casey’s
head.

“Okay, child, the baby’s head is crowning.
Now that the vows are said and the preacher, I assume is gone, I’m
pushing up the sheet. Blake, you can stay and I don’t give a fig
anymore. Proper or not, the baby is on the way. C’mon girl, push
again. That’s it.” Out came the baby in a gush of fluid and blood.
“Whew, it’s a wee girl,” Mirabel informed. A few light taps on its
pink behind brought forth a loud wail and a loud groan from the
floor.

Mirabel let out a relieved breath and looked
down and saw the black girl opening her eyes. “I’ve no time for a
silly girl’s swooning. Get yourself over to the window seat and sit
there until your head clears,” she ordered. The poor servant moaned
again and did as she was told, swearing she’d never have a baby of
her own. Although he was a male, he could understand the black
girl’s comment.

The cord was cut with a kitchen knife Mirabel
had in her apron pocket. She then placed the baby in the mother’s
waiting arms. “I have to get the afterbirth out. It will be painful
again for a few minutes while I press on your tummy.”

By now Blake was feeling mighty queasy
himself and the new mother screamed making Mirabel jump.

“Land sakes, child, I didn’t even touch
you.”

She looked down and Blake saw a worried look
etched on the servant’s face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing serious,” she answered. “I think
another is on its way.”

“What!?” Two shocked voices snapped at
her.

“Blake?” Casey gave him a harried look and a
warning that he couldn’t exactly read in her eyes. But he prayed it
wasn’t what she had threatened. “Sorry,” he shrugged and kissed her
brow.

“I don’t think you look sorry enough. And
wipe that silly expression off your face.” He did when his wife
screamed at the next pain.

A second little girl was placed in Blake’s
arms. He looked totally pleased with himself, as if Casey had
nothing to do with all of this. His creation delighted him more
than words could express. They were God-awful funny looking. Wet
and wrinkled like day-old prunes, but they were his and they were
beautiful in his eyes, nevertheless.

He was filled with so much love and pride
for these little girls and his wife. Wife? The new responsibilities
awed him. In a little time, he had gained a wife and two babies,
who were flesh and blood, part of him and her. It was a little
scary. He turned to look at the new mother. Her pretty pink mouth
upturned in a smile, she was sleeping with the other twin in her
arms. Pushing back a soggy lock of her hair from her flush and
sweaty brow, his heart swelled with overwhelming love again. God, I
hope she didn’t mean what she had said a while back.

He could never stop making love to her
anymore than he could stop a locomotive.

EPILOGUE

Casey lived in Georgia in the house Blake’s
grandparent’s built. Her husband continued to raise cotton, making
a profitable living. But cotton wasn’t the only crop they
raised.

Maisie and Melissa, the seven-year old twins
ran happily through the fields behind their father. Watching her
twins scatter and play with their younger brothers, Marcus and
Josh, she sat on the porch and wondered where the last eight years
had flown. She often thought about her Indian friends and her
brother. She missed him the most, but they wrote. The letters were
few and far between because he didn’t travel often to the trading
post. His last letter held promise that he and Summer Wind would
visit with their two daughters and son.

Patting her swollen stomach, Casey waited
patiently for the arrival of another child, conceived in love. She
looked up seeing a blonde head bob up over the high cotton. She was
happy that Blake had surprised her the way he had settled down and
became a family man. He was still so handsome. Her husband came up
to the porch carrying the two younger children, who giggled from
their father’s antics. Maisie and Melissa weren’t far behind.

“Hi, little mother,” grinned Blake. “How’s my
beautiful bride?”

He placed a loving kiss on her cheek and
patted her tummy tenderly.

“Still kicking, but the baby is doing most of
it,” she answered him.

Blake sat down beside her on the porch swing.
Putting his arms around her shoulders, he asked, “Happy?”