NoRegretsColeNC (26 page)

All his
fine speech about strength, understanding, and lessons learned meant no more
than the silent gusts of wind rising up around him. Such a wind might stir the
grasses or bend the branches of a tall pine, but only for a moment. In the same
way, the forgiveness he’d offered had comforted his father’s spirit and given
him peace in that brief moment they shared.
But no more.

Forgiveness,
Willie now realized, wasn’t a gift to be given away but a precious healing
power to be kept within the heart. It could do nothing for his father now.
Forgiveness didn’t erase the mistakes the man had made. Forgiveness did not
pardon the offenses committed.

What
forgiveness brought was freedom.

For so
long now, Willie had been a prisoner of his own anger and hatred. He’d allowed
his father’s acts to define him, had locked himself in chains of bitterness
from which there had been no escape.

Hattie’s
love had given him hope, but only he possessed the key that would set him free.

“Hattie,
I know this sounds crazy,” he whispered, smoothing her hair away from her
cheeks. “Maybe it is, but I need a little time to be by myself.” His gaze took
in the wet, grassy landscape. “Will you be all right for a few minutes?”

She
understood. It showed in the gentle light in her radiant eyes, in the serene
smile on her lips. Hattie nodded and closed her eyes.
“Of
course.”

“I
won’t be gone long.”

He
climbed down and set off in the rain, letting it wash over him as he withdrew
to a small grove of trees. Willie got down on both knees—the pain came, but he
would bear it—and for the first time, he prayed aloud.

Only a
strong man could truly forgive. He asked for strength; he asked for courage.

* * *
*

Tears
streamed down Hattie’s cheeks. She wiped them away with the back of her hand
and wondered what it would be like to die. Reaching down to place a hand
beneath her ribs, she felt the baby’s head. For a time, she’d suspected
something wrong, Now and then, when the child moved and kicked, she felt tiny feet
low and to the left of her belly.

Babies
were supposed to
come
head down, not feet first.

Gasping
for breath as another contraction squeezed at her abdomen, Hattie clenched her
hands into fists to hold back her frantic cries. She’d thought the baby would
turn around before her time came. Of course, she’d also thought she’d be in a
comfortable bed, attended by skillful hands.

She
could not bring this child into the world on her own. Unless they reached
Sunset soon, she would not live beyond the day.

* * *
*

Willie
limped back toward the wagon. The storm had ended, the skies were clearing, and
his heart felt light.

“How
are you doing?” He leaned over the wagon’s rail and gazed down at the figure
huddled beneath the blankets. “Are you bearing up?”

“I’ll
be all right now.” Although her voice showed strain, she managed a smile. “How
far are we from town?”

“No
more than a few miles.”

“Good.
I think this baby wants to come out sooner than we’d expected.”

Willie
went numb. Shock and excitement held him fast. “The baby’s coming now?”

“No,
not yet, but soon.
Can we please get on the road again?”

Each
word grew louder, the pitch higher, and the question ended with a keening wail
that broke the spell. Willie went into motion, not letting himself acknowledge
the pain in his leg—so slight and insignificant in comparison to what Hattie
was going through.

Within
moments they were on their way. Excitement hung in the air, thick and damp with
the freshness that always followed a storm, heavy with promise. The horse
strained at the traces, pulling the wagon over the rutted roads. The wheels
slipped and slid, but nothing would slow this momentous journey to Sunset.

When
Willie first spotted the obstacle ahead, he refused to believe what his eyes
were seeing. Only an illusion, he assured himself. An optical trick of nature
made from the mists rising up from the ground and the onerous dark clouds
scuttling again overhead.

He
gripped the reins and willed the road to miraculously open before him, all the
while choking back a fear stronger than any he’d ever tasted before. The closer
the wagon drew, the more obvious the truth became. A huge pine had fallen,
apparently struck by a bolt of lightning. It covered the road, making it
impassable and taking away all hope of reaching Sunset any time soon.

He
stopped the wagon.

“Willie,
what’s wrong? Why…” Hattie groaned when she lifted her head and saw the problem
they faced. “You’ve got to do something. The baby won’t wait.”

And
neither would she. To Willie’s astonishment, Hattie climbed down. Clutching her
belly, she hobbled toward the impasse.

“Hattie,
stop!”

“Do
something.” She sobbed the words. “We can’t stay here. I can’t have this baby
here.”

She was
becoming hysterical. Willie had to calm her. He had to calm himself, too, but
had no idea what to do…other than accept the reality of their situation.
“Honey, I’m sorry. There’s no way we can get around.”

“We
have to move—”

“I
can’t.” Even with two good legs, he wouldn’t have had strength enough to clear
the road. He jumped down, landed with a thud, and hurried to enfold Hattie in
his arms. “We have to stay calm. We’ll figure something out. Please, don’t
cry.”

“I
can’t help it. It hurts, Willie. It hurts, I’m scared, and I don’t know what
we’re going to do.” Her body shook from head to toe. “There must be a way to
get to town. Are you sure there’s not another road to take? For that matter,”
she rushed on, pulling away and glancing around, “what difference does it make
if we stay on the road? Can’t we cut through the fields? Can’t we just drive
around…
”

When he
shook his head, she fell silent.

“The
ground’s far too wet. We’d be mired down before we’d gone twenty feet.”

“But my
time’s come. The baby’s not going to wait. I can’t just tell him—or her,” she
added, “that this isn’t a very convenient time. Babies come when they’re ready,
and this one’s ready,” she wailed as another pain grabbed hold of her.

Willie
knew she couldn’t take much more pain.

“Get in
the wagon. Lie down in back. I’ve never delivered a baby before, but—”

She
shook her head vehemently. “No, you can’t.”

“Take
deep breaths. Try to relax.” Paying no heed to her protests, Willie gathered
her into his arms and guided her to the wagon again. “Calm down, Hattie.”

“That’s
easy enough for you to say. You have no idea how much it hurts.” She clenched
her hands. “I hate you Willie Morse. I wouldn’t be in all this pain if it
weren’t for you, and I swear, I’ll never let you touch me again.”

“Hush,
sweet. I know it hurts—”

“But
you don’t know how
much
. That’s the
trouble with you men. You don’t know what we go through. ‘Take a deep breath,
relax,
calm
down.’ That’s all you can say.” Sarcastic
words fired out of her mouth.

“Hattie,
you don’t have to shout. I’m not deaf.”

“I’m
not shouting!”

Dear,
brave Hattie. She had to be in excruciating
pain,
otherwise she’d still be smiling, still spouting off pleasant platitudes, still
doing her part to encourage him.

“This
will be a memory, a story we’ll tell our children…and our children’s children,”
he added, working quickly to spread blankets out over the floor of the wagon
bed. “Everything’s going to be fine.” He eased her down then nudged the pillow
beneath her head. “Women have been having babies for eons. It’s the most
natural thing in the world, or so I’ve heard. In fact, I think you’ve said as much.”
His mind raced, searching for words that might bring a measure of comfort to
this frightened young woman. What did he really know about having babies?
Nothing, except that from all accounts, it hurt like hell. “It will all be over
soon,” he whispered, settling beside her and stroking her brow with a tender
touch. “Think about how good it’s going to feel when you can hold our child in
your arms. Think about how—”

Hattie’s
screams shut off his words. Her hand flailed in the air, desperately searching
for his. He grasped hold, laced his fingers with hers, and let her hold on.

“Take a
deep breath. I’m right here. We’ll get through this together.”

Chapter
Nineteen

The
skies darkened around them, turning so dark it might have been night for all
Willie knew. Hattie writhed in pain, clinging to him with a desperate grasp.

Something
was wrong. Dreadfully wrong. Even though Willie had
never been around a woman birthing a baby before,
he knew it shouldn’t cause such agonizing screams, shouldn’t make the expectant
mother thrash about the way Hattie was doing.

The terror
that had been slowly creeping in now exploded. Willie gave Hattie’s shoulders a
shake. “What is it?
Talk to me.
Tell me what’s
happening.”

“The baby’s
wrong-side-up.”
She took
hold of one of his hands and pressed it against her stomach. “See? The baby’s
trying to come out feet first.”

He shook his
head. “You’re imagining things. Babies don’t do somersaults and turn themselves
around.”

“This one
does.” Hattie’s eyes closed. “I won’t make it, Willie. Neither will the baby.
We’re both going to die. I know that. I’ve accepted it. I’m sorry I failed.
So sorry.”

“Hush,
don’t talk
like that.” He attempted to pry her fingers from
his arm. “I won’t let you die. I’ll get help,” he told her, shouting now to be
heard over her cries and the rumblings of thunder that shook the earth and
skies. “I’ll have to try to get back to Sunset.”

“No, don’t
leave me.” Hattie clutched at him even more desperately than before. “You have
to stay here. You can’t leave me. I don’t want to die alone.” Her words came
out in short gasps, interspersed with heart-wrenching shrieks and sobs.

“Listen to
me,” he ordered, cradling her face in his hands. “I don’t want to leave you
like this, but I don’t have any choice.”

“I need
you.” Her eyes were red and swollen. Sweat and tears bathed her face. Her body
convulsed as another ferocious pain gripped her. Hattie whimpered, obviously
fighting to stay calm. She quickly lost the battle. An unearthly howl of pure
pain shot from her lips. “I swear, Willie Morse, if you leave me now, I’ll kill
you. I’ll track you down. I’ll find you, and I’ll kill you dead.”

But Hattie
would be the one dead. Unless Willie got help, both Hattie and their child
would perish.

Dear Lord, help me! Help us!

He must remain
calm. Somehow he had to extricate himself from Hattie’s iron grip, climb down
from the wagon, and walk away. No, run away.

Not running away.
Running for
help
.

His thoughts
went wild, scattering through his brain like buckshot.

He couldn’t
run. He could barely walk. How in the name of all that was holy could he make
it to Sunset in time to save Hattie and their child?

She still
clung to him, wailing in anguish. He could not even begin to imagine the
torture wracking her body.

“I have to
go,” he told her again, his voice no longer wavering but purposeful and
determined. When she reached for him, he pulled away. “God knows, I don’t want
to leave you here alone, but if I don’t try to find help, I’ll regret it for
the rest of my life. As much as it hurts me to leave, losing you would hurt
even more. I can’t lose you, Hattie. I love you. I wish you knew how much.”

He covered
her shaking body with quilts, kissed her cheek, and once more whispered his
love for her. With an ache in his heart, he swung himself down from the wagon.
Struggling with the wet traces, he worked as quickly as he could to unhitch the
horse. If he had to walk to Sunset, he’d never make it. Riding the cart horse
would be slow and difficult, but the heavy draft animal offered his only hope of
reaching town and finding aid.

Stretching
his legs over the horse’s broad back brought tremendous pain, but as Hattie’s
frantic yelps rose in the air, he forgot how much he was hurting. He leaned
forward and held tight to his mount’s neck. Together, man and beast trudged
over the rain-soaked grasses, carefully making their way past the fallen tree.
Once around the obstacle and on the road again, he pressed against the animal’s
flanks, urging it to move faster. The horse’s huge hoofs slipped and slid. Willie
threaded his fingers in the beast’s shaggy mane. Onward they traveled.

When they
reached a slight incline, he groaned as the horse struggled to gain ground.
Frightened by the storm’s incessant fury, and unaccustomed to a rider on its
back, the animal reared. Its huge forelegs struck at the air. With a fearful
whinny and a violent jerk of its head, the horse threw Willie into the muck and
mire and then disappeared into the thick pine forest.

Wiping the
mud from his eyes, Willie fought his way to his feet. Searching for the horse
would do no good. He would only lose precious time…time he didn’t have.
 

He took a
breath, got his bearings, and plodded onward. Limping, falling, crawling,
scrabbling
over the earth…he would do whatever it took to
keep moving forward.

Gradually,
the thunder lessened and the rain eased up as the storm’s fury rolled past. The
lighter skies made it easier for Willie to find his way, yet the mud and mire
slowed his progress. His boots must have weighed ten pounds apiece. His lungs burned
and his muscles were on fire. Yet the memory of Hattie’s cries spurred him
onward.

He fell
again.
And again.

Each time he
fell, he picked himself up.

A fitting
metaphor for life
itself,
and for all Hattie had
inspired him to do.

But each
time he went down, it got harder to get back on his feet.

Now he
needed more than his own determination, more even than Hattie’s encouragement.
Once again, he turned to prayer, asking not for himself, but for Hattie and for
their unborn child.

“Let them
live,” he begged. If it came to it, he would gladly die in their place. Maybe
that was what the Lord wanted from him. His death in return for their lives, a
fitting sacrifice for the multitude of sins he’d committed.

A year ago,
he’d wanted to die, had actually tried to end his life on a dusty summer’s day,
but the Lord had refused to take him. Now, though he yearned to live, he would
give up his life in an instant if he knew it would save Hattie and their child.

He rose once
more to stagger forward with faltering steps. He would go on as long as he had
breath.

With that
thought, he crashed to the ground again. Willie closed his eyes. He would rest
but a moment, get his wind back, and he would continue on.

When someone
shook him, he had no idea how much time had passed. Probably no more than a few
minutes, he guessed. He’d lost consciousness, he realized. Blinking, he looked
around and tried to get his bearings.

To his
surprise, Dr. Abner Kellerman stared back.

Willie
glanced around again, reassuring himself that he was still sprawled out across
a muddy roadway, not lying in a neatly-made hospital bed. “What are you doing
here?” he asked. “How did you find me?” Giving his head a shake, he pulled
himself up.
“Never mind.
It’s not important. Hattie
needs help. You’ve got to save her, Doc.” He clutched at the lapels of the
man’s jacket.

“Hattie?
Where is she? What’s happened?”

The voice
was that of the doctor’s wife calling out from a nearby carriage. Without
taking time to reply, Willie rushed toward it, dragging his aching leg the best
he could.

“Back there,
maybe a mile or two. A tree’s down. The road’s blocked.” He choked on his
tears. “The baby’s coming, but something’s not right.”

“Tell me
what you can.” Dr. Kellerman assisted Willie into the buggy.

“I tried to
calm her, tried to tell her everything would be all right.” Never mind the
tears. He didn’t care who saw them. “She said the baby’s turned around wrong.
She could feel the head. Here.” Willie pointed to his rib cage. “That’s not
possible
,
is it?”

“It
happens.”

Willie saw
the stricken look on the doctor’s face. He saw, too, how Charlotte’s hand
closed around her husband’s fingers. “You can help her, can’t you?”

“If she were
back in Sunset…” He blew out a breath.
“Never mind.
She’s not in Sunset, and I’ll have to deal with the situation the best I can.”
Abner gave Willie a hard look. “Be prepared for the worst.”

Charlotte
did her best to distract him. She talked to him in a soft, soothing voice,
trying to help him calm his nerves and get his mind off the grim reality that
might lie ahead. Her voice droned on as her husband hurried the smart, matched
pair of bays over the rough, muddy road.

“Over
there,” Willie called, pointing to a bend in the road. “It’s not much farther.”
His heart raced as the horses’ hoofs splattered through puddles left from the
violent storm. Second later, the fallen tree came into view.

“Stay back,”
Abner ordered, reaching for his medical bag. “Charlotte and I will do what we
can.”

“I’m coming
with you.”

Charlotte
shook her head. “
It’s
better you do what the doctor
says. Wait here, Willie.”

As he slowly
plodded along behind them, they hurried toward the fallen giant. They both
scrambled around it and quickly disappeared on the other side.

Willie stopped,
cocked his head, and then fell to the ground in joy as he heard Hattie’s feeble
voice. Obviously, she no longer had strength enough to cry out. But at least
she was alive.

Now, nothing
could hold him back. He squared his shoulders and, ignoring the fierce stabs of
pain in his leg, he marched resolutely forward.

“I told you
to stay back.” Dr. Kellerman shot him a sharp look when Willie jostled his way past
the tree trunk and came toward the wagon. “Childbirth isn’t something a man
needs to see.”

“You’re a
man.”

“I’m a
doctor, but even so, if given a choice, most women would rather have a midwife
attend them.” His hands were all over Hattie’s protruding belly as he spoke.

Willie had
no idea what was going on, but Dr. Kellerman seemed fairly calm. Charlotte sat
in the wagon bed, cradling Hattie’s head in her lap and crooning softly.

The woman looked
up and rolled her eyes. “Well, now that you’re here, make yourself useful. Fill
that bucket with water, there’s plenty of it to be had.” Puddles surrounded the
wagon. “Next,
get a fire
going as quickly as you can.
Get
the water boiling.”

“There’s
carbolic in my bag,” Dr. Kellerman called out. “We’ll use it to make the birth
as safe as possible.”

Willie
couldn’t put all of his questions into words. Too many things were going on at
once. He grabbed the bucket at the back of the wagon and set about following
the instructions both Abner and Charlotte gave. He added a few drops of
carbolic acid solution to the water. He found a few of Hattie’s blouses, ripped
them up and soaked them for use as compresses. He kept his mouth shut and did
as he was told. It worried him each time he looked up and saw Dr. Kellerman’s
hands pressing against Hattie’s stomach. That wasn’t how babies were
born,
at least, that’s not how they were
supposed
to be born. Nobody was supposed
to push them out of the womb.

Maybe the
baby couldn’t come out. Maybe the baby had—

A plaintive
newborn mewl rose up. All thought ceased in Willie’s head as he fainted dead
away.

* * * *

Hattie
cradled the infant to her breast, holding him close as she huddled beneath the
gray woolen blanket. Charlotte tried to take the child from her, insisting that
new mothers needed rest, but Hattie was having none of it. She’d endured more
pain than she’d ever known possible, had nearly died from the complications of
what Dr. Kellerman called a
breech birth
,
and nobody was taking her baby away from her.

But
where was Willie? Why hadn’t he come to see his son?

Charlotte
laughed. “Better tend to him, Abner. I’ll take care of Hattie.” She jerked a
thumb to her right,
then
smiled. “He passed out. Too
much for a fellow to handle, you know. Now, let’s get back to business. You
might think the hard work is over, but it’s not.”

“What
do you mean? The baby’s here.”

“Afterbirth,”
she whispered. “Relax, Hattie, and it will all be over soon enough.” She
pressed on Hattie’s softened abdomen. “You might feel a few tiny contractions.”

Hattie
closed her eyes. After the ordeal she’d been through, a few tiny contractions
would be of minor concern. Soon, Charlotte’s voice came toward her.

“All
finished. Now, let’s get you cleaned up.”