Opal (43 page)
‘‘If only I could do that. I mean, sleep like that.’’ Standing behind a screen in the corner, Ruby laid her layers of clothing over the top of the screen. Her flowered flannel nightdress settled down her arms, and she waddled toward the bed, tying the neck ribbon as she went.
‘‘You want a warm stone for your feet?’’
Ruby sank down on the edge of the bed. ‘‘No, I want Rand.’’
Her big sister looked like a little girl pleading for a puppy.
‘‘Let me brush your hair.’’ Anything to take the fear from her sister’s eyes. ‘‘I’ll be right back.’’ Opal headed for the kitchen for the stones they kept under the stove.
‘‘It’s clearin’.’’ Chaps came in from the back porch.
‘‘Thank God.’’ Opal moved the pan of boiling water to a cooler part of the stove, retrieved a stone, and returned to Ruby’s room. ‘‘Chaps said it’s clearing.’’
Ruby closed her eyes and chewed her bottom lip. ‘‘Thank you, Father. Oh, thank you, thank you.’’
Opal slipped the stone in the bed, removed the pins from her sister’s hair, and took up the hairbrush. With long gentle strokes she worked the few tangles loose and brushed love all through the glorious blond hair.
Ruby let her head fall forward and propped her hands on the bed beside her. ‘‘If I don’t go to bed soon, I’m going to collapse right here, and with all the extra weight I’m carrying, you’ll never get me into bed.’’ Her murmur hardly moved her lips.
‘‘Then I’ll quit now. I wouldn’t want to have to rig a rope and tackle to heave you into bed.’’ Opal tied the hair mass off with a ribbon and lifted the covers for Ruby to crawl under. She kissed her sister’s cheek. ‘‘Now, don’t forget to say your prayers,’’ she admonished, the very thing Ruby used to say to her.
‘‘Thank you, Mother Opal.’’ Ruby smiled and turned on her side. ‘‘I haven’t quit praying since darkness fell.’’
Opal returned to the kitchen. Would she ever learn to pray like Ruby did? Was it something that came with age?
‘‘I put more wood in.’’
‘‘Thanks, Chaps.’’ She pulled the pot to the hotter stove front and poured the golden meal into a smaller bowl of cold water, stirring as she poured. No one liked lumpy cornmeal. Once she had that smooth and liquid, she poured it slowly into the boiling water, stirring all the while. Oatmeal was far easier to make.
The men headed for the bunkhouse after ringing the triangle one more time. Opal read until the cornmeal mush was cooked, then poured it into bread pans to set. Leaving one lamp burning in a window just in case, she headed down the hall to her room. ‘‘Lord,’’ she whispered, ‘‘please bring them home safe.’’ After sliding her hot stone under the covers of her bed, she pushed back the curtains to stare up at the sky, now a round bowl of black velvet, pinned in place by stars of all sizes and twinkle power. ‘‘Lord, please bring Rand and Beans home safe and sound. I don’t ask for a whole lot because I don’t want to bother you, but now I’m really asking. If there is something you want me to do, let me know, and I’ll do my best.’’
White covered the ground and drew curved corners on the windowpanes. She thought back to supper. The snowfall had escalated to blizzard proportions and yet, these few hours later, the world was still, as only it can be when buried in new snow. Chaps had prayed for the blizzard to cease. He had reminded God that He had power over wind and weather. Was this an answer? How could it not be?
She let the curtain fall and sat down to take off her boots. Shirt unbuttoned and one boot off, she froze, not even daring to breathe. Was that a dog bark?
She listened so hard her ears ached.
The bark came again, closer this time.
She slammed her foot back in her boot and buttoned her shirt as she ran on her tiptoes to the front door.
Ghost leaped and yipped when Opal flung open the door. Rand’s ‘‘Halloo’’ floated through the darkness.
‘‘Down, girl. You are soaking wet.’’
‘‘Take her in by the fire.’’ Rand rode up and dismounted. ‘‘Sure hope you have something hot you can fix for two near-to-frozen cowboys.’’
Opal threw herself into his waiting arms. ‘‘I was so afraid. . . .’’
We could have been left like Mrs. Robertson
.
‘‘Hey. We holed up till the snow quit, then came on in.’’ He hugged her close. ‘‘How’s Ruby?’’
‘‘Sleeping.’’
‘‘Not now.’’ Ruby met her husband at the door and hugged him as close as her front would allow.
‘‘I’ll put the horses away.’’ Beans took the reins.
‘‘Thanks. Then come and eat.’’
Later, when the men had been fed and all was well again, Opal stood at her window again. ‘‘Lord, when you decide to answer prayers, you sure don’t let any grass grow under your feet. Thank you. I think I need to believe in you more.’’
While her stone had decidedly cooled off, her heart felt bigger and warmer than it ever had. Rand and Beans were home safe. She’d rubbed Ghost near dry with a towel, and now she lay sleeping behind the stove.
‘‘God, I have one more question. You could still the wind and the snow, and you did. You could have made Atticus well and whole again, but as far as I know, you . . . Is
why
an all right question to ask?’’
‘‘That has to be the prettiest Christmas tree ever.’’
‘‘Ah, my Ruby, you always say that.’’
‘‘Only because it is.’’ She inhaled the pine fragrance and let her head fall back against Rand’s shoulder. ‘‘I think tonight I heard the angels singing.’’
‘‘That was the boys. They’re practicing for tomorrow.’’ He rested his chin on the top of her head, his arms around her, hands covering hers on the readymade shelf of baby.
Their hands bounced upward as Ruby uttered, ‘‘Oof.’’
‘‘That one sure can kick.’’
‘‘You ought to feel it from my point of view.’’ She puffed out a breath. ‘‘He or she, as the case may be, is far more active than Per was, and look at him go.’’
‘‘Not now, thank you, he just went to sleep.’’
‘‘I wish we could have gone to church.’’
‘‘I know, but with the snow falling like it is, I just didn’t want to chance it.’’
‘‘Rand, can you believe how blessed we are?’’
‘‘Sometimes no.’’
They chuckled when their hands bounced again.
‘‘I think this baby could come soon.’’
‘‘Is there something you are not telling me?’’
‘‘Just a feeling. Twinges, backache, you know.’’
‘‘Now, how would I know?’’ He stepped slightly back and kneaded her shoulders with firm hands. ‘‘Tip your head to the right.’’
‘‘Wish I could lay on my stomach and let you work on my lower back. Ah.’’ Her ‘‘ah’’ turned into more of a groan.
‘‘What? Am I hurting you?’’
‘‘No, not you. This child of yours. He’s doing somersaults.’’
‘‘Let’s go to bed. Morning will come far too soon.’’ Rand blew out the lamp near them and banked the fire in the fireplace and then the one in the kitchen stove. The cat and Ghost lay curled together behind the stove, both of them looking up but neither moving.
‘‘I wouldn’t move either.’’ Rand set the lid back in place. The cat yawned, showing pink tongue and white teeth. Ghost’s tail brushed the floor. ‘‘Merry Christmas, animals.’’ He picked up the last two heated stones and followed his yawning wife to the bedroom.
Sometime later Ruby woke with a grunt. She shifted her hips, trying to relieve the cramp. In a moment she relaxed and snuggled herself closer to her husband, sleeping spoon fashion behind her.
The third time she woke, she gave up. This was no muscle cramp. She pulled herself to the side of the bed, leaving the warmth of her quilted cocoon.
‘‘What is it?’’ Rand’s voice came softly through the dark.
‘‘Looks like this baby is getting anxious.’’
‘‘You mean now?’’
‘‘Well, not right now but soon.’’ Ruby sat up on the edge of the bed. ‘‘If it’s a girl, we name her Mary, and if a boy we call him Joseph.’’
‘‘We could call him Harold.’’
‘‘Harold? Hmm.’’ She squirmed against another surge.
‘‘Sure, as in ‘Hark, the Herald Angels Sing.’’’
Ruby groaned, this time at his joke, if one could call it that. ‘‘You better go put wood on the fire. Think I’ll be doing some walking for a while.’’
Rand walked with her, entertaining her with stories of the calves he’d helped into the world and a tale of puppies he hand-fed as a boy.
‘‘You want me to go get Little Squirrel?’’
‘‘No. She needs her rest. It’ll be a long time yet.’’ She clung to Rand’s arm, fingers digging into his wrist until the contraction rolled on. She stood panting in the aftermath.
‘‘You need to put that sheet of canvas under the sheet of our bed and fold another sheet over it.’’
Rand did as she instructed, and together they tucked the bed back together. ‘‘You sure you should be doing this?’’
‘‘Of course. I have a box of supplies all made up. It’s there under the bench by the wall. You’ll need lots of hot water so start the boiler. There’s plenty of water in the barrel on the porch.’’
‘‘If it isn’t frozen solid.’’
‘‘It wasn’t earlier.’’ This time the contraction brought on a groan. ‘‘Wish I had sent Per and Opal to the Robertsons’.’’
‘‘Too much snow. I could take them to Little Squirrel.’’
‘‘No.’’
‘‘Then I’ll go get Little Squirrel.’’
‘‘No. Ohhh.’’ She straightened, kneading her back with her fists.
‘‘Ruby, you need a woman with you.’’
‘‘Why? You’ve helped calves be born. This is no different.’’
‘‘I can’t do this!’’ He dropped the round lid back on the reservoir, the clatter making Ruby grimace again. Either that or the pain rolling through her did.
‘‘Of . . . course . . . you . . . can.’’ A pant separated each word.
She placed the scissors, string, and some cloth pads in the water about to boil.
‘‘Oh.’’ The gush of water down her legs told her they’d reached the next stage.
‘‘Please, let me go get Little Squirrel.’’
‘‘Only if we have an emergency.’’ She clung to the back of a chair and panted her way through the contraction.
An hour later, with his wife sound asleep, his new daughter, Mary, in the crook of her arm, and the bloody sheets in a bundle in the corner ready to be soaked in tepid water, Rand watched the first streaks of Christmas Day light the eastern sky. While his hands had quit shaking, he still quivered inside. No wonder this was women’s work. Strong man as he was, he’d barely survived, or at least that was the way it felt.
He dashed away another tear as he thought again to the glory of holding that squalling baby in his hands. He’d laid her on her mother’s chest and dripped his tears on Ruby’s sweaty face. His brave wife had neither screamed nor fainted, while he’d nearly keeled over. Only the knowledge that she needed him kept him on his feet and inside the house. No wonder most men were banished from the birthing room.
‘‘Rand?’’
He turned back to the bed at the soft call. ‘‘I’m here.’’
I’m here
all right, and I’ll always be here
.
‘‘Merry Christmas.’’ Ruby smiled at him and kissed the downy head of their daughter. ‘‘You did just fine.’’
‘‘You are the one who did just fine. Ruby, darling, I love you more than I ever thought possible. Thank you for giving me the privilege of staying with you and being the first one to meet our new daughter.’’
‘‘I know it wasn’t proper.’’
‘‘And since when did we give a frog’s leap about propriety?’’ He turned her hand and kissed her palm, then closed her fingers over the kiss to keep it warm. ‘‘That was one of the big reasons why I came west, to escape from proper, and ‘this is the way it should be done.’’’ He mimicked a woman’s voice, making Ruby smile.
She could still feel the imprint in her hand.
Ah, my Lord, thank
you for bringing us through the birthing. I know my time was easy compared
to others I’ve helped, but one forgets how hard it is. Thank you that
we ignored conventions. Having Rand with me . . . I-I cannot begin to
thank you enough. Our little Mary
. Ruby laid her weary head back on the pillows. Granted, she’d slept awhile but hardly enough to make a dent in her weariness.
‘‘Ruby?’’ Opal’s voice came softly, along with a knock on the door.
‘‘Come in.’’
Opal stuck her head in. ‘‘Are you all right?’’
‘‘More than all right. Come meet your new niece.’’
Opal glanced at Rand. ‘‘Niece?’’
Rand smiled from Ruby to Opal.
‘‘You already had the baby?’’ Opal tiptoed in, a grin nearly splitting her face.
‘‘Your sister is one tough lady.’’ Rand stood by the bed. ‘‘And she made me into one tough man. I’ll never make fun of cows having calves again nor of women being the weaker sex.’’ He took Ruby’s hand. ‘‘Wait till Per hears about this.’’
‘‘How could you? I mean, I never heard a thing.’’ Opal stared down at the little head in the crook of Ruby’s arm. ‘‘It’s a girl?’’
‘‘We’re calling her Mary, since she was born on Christmas Day.’’
Opal knelt beside the bed and touched the baby’s downy head with one finger. ‘‘She’s all right and you’re all right?’’ She looked up at Ruby, concern wrinkling her forehead.
‘‘Far as we know. It was an easy birthing and—’’ ‘‘And she’s lying through her teeth.’’ Rand shook his head. ‘‘I can’t begin to tell you—’’ ‘‘Don’t listen to him.’’
‘‘But what about Little Squirrel? I thought she was coming.’’
‘‘Ruby wouldn’t let me call her.’’
‘‘She’s not been feeling well. She needed the rest.’’
Opal stared from one to the other. ‘‘I think I’ll go make breakfast. You both look like you need a long nap.’’ She pushed herself to her feet. ‘‘What a Christmas present.’’
As she left the room, Ruby motioned Rand closer. ‘‘The presents. They’re in the bottom of the chifforobe and behind the box in the pantry. We didn’t put them under the tree last night.’’
‘‘That’s because we were going to do so this morning, but we were slightly busy.’’ He dropped a kiss on her forehead. ‘‘I’m off to do your bidding.’’
A yawn caught her before she could cover her mouth. ‘‘Thank you.’’
‘‘And you sleep. Don’t worry about a thing.’’ He shut the door gently behind himself.
Ruby settle into the pillow and let her eyes drift closed. She never got further than ‘‘Thank you, Father’’ before she dropped into exhausted sleep.
