Rebellious Bride (37 page)

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Authors: Donna Fletcher

Tags: #Historical Romance, #19th century

BOOK: Rebellious Bride
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Lil patted her husband’s cheek like a patient mother tending to a stubborn child. “We don’t have time to argue. I still have hours before the actually delivery. And keeping busy will help me through my labor.” She didn’t want to add, “Until it gets so bad that it forces me to bed.”

“If there is that much time, let me take you home where there are others more competent to help you.”

A forceful shake of her head warned him she wouldn’t be swayed in her decision. “The weather won’t permit it. There is also the chance, since this is my first delivery that the baby might arrive sooner than I anticipate.”

Rolfe understood. There were too many variables to consider. Their best and safest choice was to remain at the cabin. “I’ll bring in the other items.”

“We’ll need firewood,” she called to him as he walked out. She rolled up her sleeves, ready to work. Her uppermost thought was that she was glad she had packed extra supplies, figuring that she would need them since Dave Barton was rebuilding his ranch after a fire. They would need almost every item, from the clean sheets and blankets to the ceramic bowls.

Lil found a well-worn broom and quickly disposed of the mess on the plank floor and the wooden table. She cleaned layers of dust off the three oil lamps she had found sitting on the scarred wooden mantel and placed them around the cabin for maximum lighting. She sent Rolfe for water, having located two buckets tucked off in a dark corner of the cabin. And then she scrubbed the tabletop clean and arranged the needed items on it.

The pains came and went in frequency and strength, but Lil focused on the chores she had set out to complete. Occasionally she had to stop, the pain intruding upon her tasks. But she discovered that by keeping busy she kept her suffering to a minimum and kept her husband from frowning too often. She could almost feel his concern, just as he could feel her discomfort. He would slip his arm around her when a pain attacked, or he would rub her back or massage her shoulders. He never once insisted that she lie down on the bed that she had purposely refrained from preparing.

A low fire burned in the stone fireplace, and the three oil lamps cast a pleasant glow throughout the cabin, which looked much tidier than it had when Rolfe first walked in.

Lil finally decided to make up the bed, since her pains were increasing in intensity and frequency. The old straw mattress had seen better days, and the sagging ropes it rested upon attested to the considerable weight it had once held.

With one last tuck of the white cotton sheet the simple and final task was complete. Lil turned to face her husband.

He was perched against the table’s edge, his arms crossed over his chest. He had removed his buckskin shirt, and she smiled at his rugged appeal. “We need to talk.”

“Fine,” he said and straightened to his towering height. “You lie down on the bed and we’ll talk.”

“Not just yet,” she said. “I wish to wash up some and—” A pain stabbed at her, and she grabbed for her stomach.

Rolfe had her up in his arms in seconds and into the bed even faster. “I have had enough. You’re staying in this bed. Tell me whatever needs to be done, and I’ll see to it.”

Lil eased her way through the pain and then spoke. “I wanted to freshen up, pin up my hair, and then get out of these clothes.”

“I’ll see to all three,” he said and reached out to unbutton her blouse.

She moved to help him, but he gently slapped her hands away.

‘‘Enough, I said. You will rest, and I will take care of you.”

Lil placed her arms straight down at her sides. “Yes, husband.”

Rolfe stopped working on the buttons and looked at her oddly. “You actually intend to obey me?”

She raised her hand to clasp his. His large hand was warm and his skin slightly rough. He felt good, so very good to the touch. “We need each other tonight, Rolfe.”

He found a response difficult. He feared for her wellbeing and for the safe delivery of their child. What if there were complications? What if she required medical skills he wasn’t capable of supplying?

Lil easily read his concerns. “We’ll do just fine together,” she assured him and squeezed his hand.

Rolfe thought it wise to keep his doubts to himself. She needed his strength now, not his uncertainty. “That we will, madam,” he said and leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Now let me see to your comfort.”

“I think we should discuss the possibility of unexpected problems arising and their solutions,” Lil offered as Rolfe helped her out of her blouse.

“Nothing will go wrong,” he insisted, with the devil’s own frown.

“No. No, of course not. But it is always good to be prepared.” She smiled, attempting pleasantry to lighten his mood.

Rolfe eyed her skeptically as he slipped off her skirt. “Tell me what will make you feel better.”

“All right,” she agreed, and another pain struck. She grabbed his hand and rode through it, her eyes all the while focused on him.

After it had passed, he placed a basin of warm water and a cloth on a chair next to the bed. While he sponged her face and neck, wiping away the light film of sweat and dust, she talked nonstop.

“Blood ... pain... baby’s head... cord... cry.”

The words became a blur, and his blood rushed up to darken his face with a deep flush, not from embarrassment, for Lillian and he had shared far too many intimate moments for that. No. It was a flash of fear so strong that it set a devil of a scare into him. He loved Lillian. He couldn’t bear to lose her... and at his own incompetent hands.

“I’ve upset you,” Lil said.

Rolfe threw the cloth into the basin and eased his wife’s last remaining garments off her. He cast a quick glance over her naked belly, swollen with their child soon to enter the world, before he pulled the sheet over her and tucked it around her.

“I’ve made the experience sound too technical,” she said almost apologetically, upset with herself for having caused the worry creases that wrinkled his brow. “It isn’t nearly as complicated as I made it sound.”

Rolfe sat beside her and ran his hand across the swell of her tummy. He rubbed it gently, thinking of the painful birthing process ahead of her. “You are far more knowledgeable in the field of medicine than I have given you credit for, and I fear my incompetence in such a delicate matter will only add to your discomfort.”

“Nonsense—” Another pain attacked before she could finish, and Rolfe felt the contraction beneath his hand. The strength of it caused gooseflesh to run up his arm. He gently stroked her stomach, hoping to alleviate a bit of her distress.

A thunderclap sounded, startling both of them. They stared at each other and then burst into a fit of laughter. The sudden intrusion was a welcoming recess from the stressful situation. Rain hammered the small cabin as their humor subsided, and Lil reached out and caressed Rolfe’s cheek. His toasty warmth felt delicious against her moist skin.

He turned his face into her palm, his lips brushing her skin, sampling the familiar taste of her, so sweet and fresh. “I’ll be right here for you, Lillian.”

“You have no idea how relieved I am that you are.” Lil’s sigh was heavy with relief.

Rolfe finished seeing to her needs and gathering all the necessary items for her delivery. They talked openly of the delivery. Rolfe questioned. Lil answered.

“Remember now,” she said. “Not every baby cries right away on delivery, so don’t panic if that happens. Just clean the child off, as I explained, and get to that cord. The baby will get around to testing its lungs soon enough.”

Rolfe nodded and listened.

“If I should bleed heavily and you find it difficult to stop the bleeding—”

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” Rolfe insisted, preventing her from giving him instructions. He had convinced himself that if he didn’t hear her directions he wouldn’t need them.

“Rolfe,” Lil tried again.

“No, Lillian! I won’t hear it,” he snapped.

She attempted another try, but the baby apparently agreed with Rolfe and delivered Lillian a stinging blow.

Rolfe was beside her instantly, holding her hand, wiping her brow, assuring her that all would be well and over soon.

“Not soon enough,” she argued breathlessly as the pain finally receded.

The night wore on along with the storm. Rolfe’s worries increased as Lillian’s pains increased in intensity. He cursed himself a million times over for having made her pregnant, condemning himself for her horrible suffering.

“Stop blaming yourself,” Lil ordered, resting between pains.

Rolfe looked at her, his one brow arched and his lips pursed tightly together, as if annoyed that she so easily understood him.

“You are not difficult to read,” she answered his unspoken question.

He wiped her sweating brow. “I don’t care to see you suffer this way.”

Lil shrugged and gave him a weak smile. “It is all part of giving birth. Don’t worry so.”

“I do worry,” he snapped and walked away from her to stand in front of the fireplace. He stared down into the flames as though lost and alone.

Lil wished she could go to him. He needed her tonight as badly as she needed him. Their concerns were the same, yet he didn’t trouble her with his disturbing thoughts. He kept his worries to himself, remaining strong for her. She admired his strength, his courage, his tenderness in caring for her. He was so much more of a man than she had first given him credit for.

She chewed her lower lip in thought. What would bring them closer together? What would make this delivery easier on both of them? A smile surfaced. The solution was so simple. She called to him. “Rolfe.”

He raised his head and looked over at her. He could see she was in no pain at the moment, but that wouldn’t last long. Her pains were barely minutes apart. Soon she would be writhing in agony once again, only to have her torture pass and then start all over again.

“Rolfe,” she said and stretched her hand out to him.

He went to her, and she took his hand and pulled him down close to her. “I have something important to tell you.”

He looked anxious, the worry lines on his face returning. “What’s wrong?”

She kissed his lips softly and whispered, “I love you.”

Rolfe’s expression was blank as he stared at her. “You love me?”

With her smile spreading wide, Lil nodded her head vigorously. “I love you very much. I loved you when I thought you incompetent in riding a horse and handling a gun. And when I thought you too dependent on others, I loved you still. I even loved you when I thought you a fancy-pants lord. It’s shameful the way I love you.”

“Why?” he continued surprised, though damned pleased.

“Because I can’t get enough of you. I want you with me every minute and second of the day. I want to fall asleep in your arms and wake—” Another pain ended her declaration of love.

Rolfe helped her through it and as soon as she lay still and in control, he smiled down at her. “I love you as well, Lillian.”

“You’re not just saying—”

He pressed his fingers to her lips to stop her words. “No. I’m not just saying it to please you. I have known for some time that I loved you. I fought against the truth at first. After all, you weren’t exactly what I had sought in a wife.”

Lil laughed softly.

“I love your laughter and your smile and your spirited nature. The very traits I once thought improper are the ones that have endeared you to me.” He leaned down and kissed her lips gently. “I love you with all my heart, Lillian.”

Another pain interrupted them, and she reached frantically for his hand.

He squeezed her fingers. “I’m here, Lillian. I’m right here for you.”

Rolfe spoke those words many times, in the hours that followed. It was a long night. A night filled with love, fear, courage, and pride.

Dawn was on the horizon when, at Rolfe’s urging, Lil gave the final push that released her son into his father’s waiting hands. His son, wrinkled and red, struggled in his grasp, gasped for air, and then delivered a wail to let the world know that he had arrived.

Both mother and father smiled with relief and pride.

By late afternoon the cabin was brimming with people. Sam, Evan, Jake, and several cowhands had ridden off after the storm ended to search for them. They had found Cedric’s body, and Jake had ordered two of the men to bury him.

It didn’t take them long to surmise that Rolfe and Lillian had headed for the closest shelter, the cabin. Sam had asked Jake to return to Little and bring Doc and Holly with him while Sam and Evan rode on. Jonathan, of course, would not be left behind. Laden with items his lord and lady were sure to need, he had accompanied Doc and Holly to the cabin.

Now the whole crowd was fussing over tiny Alexander Sherborn.

“He cries as loud as his father did when he was young,” Evan announced.

“You were too young to remember my cries,” Rolfe argued good-naturedly.

“I too have been told that your wails were deafening, sir,” Jonathan agreed.

“I think he has Sam’s eyes,” Holly said.

“He looks to have Lil’s round cheeks to me,” Sam added.

“He’s healthy. That’s what counts,” Doc filled in.

Lil was pleased with their attention and grateful to Jonathan for bringing her necessities and a nightdress, and to Holly for helping her into it. But she would have preferred to remain alone with Rolfe and their son for just one more day.

Now that they had admitted their love for each other, she had hoped for time to talk with Rolfe about it, to hear him declare his love over and over again, to feel his hand on her brow. To hear him say he was there for her forever and always, to have him lie beside her with their son, and to be alone with him.

“I thank you all for visiting, but Lil needs her rest,” Rolfe announced, as though attuned to her thoughts. He chased everyone outside with a wave of his hands toward the door.

“You’re not bringing her home now?” Sam asked concerned.

“She shouldn’t be moved for at least another day. Maybe two,” Doc said and turned around to send Lil a conspiratorial wink that no one else could see.

He was a wise old man, Lil thought.

“She should get some rest,” Holly agreed, tugging Sam by the arm.

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