Silver Lining (37 page)

Livvy nodded. "We've been ready for a couple of weeks. And I have plenty of sheets. We're going to need them since we'll have to remake the bed periodically, especially if the bleeding continues." Livvy glanced toward the bedroom door. "She's having chills and stomach pain down low. Some nausea."

Louise's thoughts raced. "After a fall like that, I'd expect labor to begin at once, particularly since she's overdue. But you're describing—"

"Take a look and tell me what you think."

The instant Louise walked into the room, she smelled the thick coppery scent of blood. Philadelphia was curled on her side in bed, shivering, her arms wrapped around her stomach. Louise exchanged a glance with Livvy before she approached the bed.

"Howdy, Philadelphia . You look like hell."

One eye was swelling and beginning to discolor; she was going to have a dandy of a black eye. And the cut on her forehead would leave a scar. It had bled into her hair and the blood had dried there. Her wrist was wrapped in a stiff bandage to hold it steady, but Philadelphia seemed unaware of wrist pain as she cupped her stomach. That indicated greater pain in her stomach than in her wrist.

Her eyes fluttered open. "You! Get out of my room!"

Louise pulled back the covers and examined Philadelphia 's bloody nightgown and the bloody sheet beneath her hips. She raised her head and stared at Livvy. "Someone should fetch Doc Pope right now."

"That's what I've been saying!"

"No!" Philadelphia glared at them with burning eyes. "It's not your decision! No, no, no!"

"Is the pain constant or intermittent?" Louise snapped.

"Constant. Oh God, it's constant. It doesn't let up. Give me back the blanket, I'm so cold."

"Let us have a minute or two to clean this up and get you into a fresh nightgown, then you can have the blanket," Livvy said soothingly. To Louise she added in a lower voice, "We can fold a sheet into a pad and put that beneath her so all we have to change next time is the pad instead of the whole bed."

Fifteen minutes later, they had the mess cleaned up, the bleeding slowed, and Philadelphia into a clean nightgown and wrapped in an extra blanket. Louise carried the bloody sheets into the corridor with Livvy right behind her. "Well?" Livvy said.

"If I didn't know better," Louise answered slowly, puzzled, "I'd say we were dealing with a miscarriage, not a birth. She's having chills, constant pain… I'd give her a few grains of gallic acid every few hours to arrest the bleeding, and advise her to stay in bed for the next two months and hope she carries to term."

"It can't be a miscarriage." Livvy frowned back into the bedroom, her eyes on Philadelphia , writhing beneath her blankets. "The one thing there's no doubt about is the date of conception. May 29. She's not early; she's overdue."

"And that means we have a situation here that sure ain't good. She must have hurt herself inside when she pitched down the staircase."

"Or maybe it's the baby that's hurt and bleeding."

"Either way, Livvy, this isn't a normal delivery. We need the doctor."

They stood in silence, staring into the bedroom.

"We'll alternate sage tea and tansy tea for the bleeding," Livvy said finally. "I've got some laudanum if the pain gets unbearable. If we can't slow or stop the bleeding, then I'll insist that Howard or Wally send for Doc Pope. I'll throw them both out the door if I have to."

"You fix the tea tray, and I'll stay with her." Shaking her head, Louise entered the bedroom and pulled a chair next to Philadelphia . "Is the pain still constant?"

"You have no right to be here, and I want you gone. I detest you! Get out, get out, get out!"

"Do tell." Louise reached for the basin on the bed table beside her and held it as Philadelphia vomited.

When Philadelphia fell back on the bed, Louise wiped her face with a damp cloth and gave her a glass of water to rinse her mouth.

"To tell you the truth, I don't know why I'm trying to help you. You're about as worthless a person as I ever met. But I'm here for the duration. I guess tending sick folks or folks in pain is a flaw in my character. Now do you want to know what's happening to you, or not?"

They stared at each other, then Philadelphia fell back on her pillow. "I wish it was you lying here suffering. I wish you'd never been born."

"I've wished that myself a few times. Now. You've lost alot of blood. That tells us something is bad wrong. You're also sick to your stomach, shivering, and experiencing continual pain. None of that is usual for a delivery. If Livvy and I can't slow down the blood loss or stop it, we're sending for Doc Pope."

"I'd rather die than send for a doctor!"

"Well, it might happen that's going to be the choice. Death or a doctor. You might be stupid enough to let yourself die because you have some crazy damned notion that a doctor is going to tell everyone that you have a baby everyone will hear about anyway, but I ain't going to let that happen. I can't promise anything about the baby—that ain't looking good—but I can promise that you are not going to die! Long before that happens, a doctor is going to be standing here working on you."

"Never! My father promised! Oh! Oh!"

Leaning forward, Louise placed her palms on Philadelphia 's stomach. It was a contraction, but weak.

After glancing at the clock with the intention of timing the contractions, she explained what had just occurred.

"Where is Livvy?" Philadelphia asked when she'd caught her breath. "I want her here, not you."

"She's downstairs fixing tea."

Philadelphia grimaced and clenched her teeth, then she exhaled slowly. "Max will never love you. Not ever. He loves me, and he always will!"

Louise gazed at the blankets mounded over Philadelphia 's belly and unconsciously her hand dropped to her own stomach.

Philadelphia smiled. In the midst of her pain and nausea, she smiled. "Anyone with eyes can see that you love him. That's good. Because when I take him, I want you to suffer like you've made me suffer!"

" Philadelphia ? Shut up."

"What?"

Louise narrowed her eyes down to slits. "Do you have trouble understanding English, or are your ears bad? I said, shut up. We aren't going to talk about me, and we aren't going to talk about Max. The only person we're going to talk about today is you. You ought to like that since that's your favorite subject."

"Nobody talks to me like that!" Bubbles sputtered up at the corners of her lips.

"Now here's how it's going to go." Reaching, she picked up the basin again and caught another gush of vomit. "The only way you get rid of me and I get rid of you," she paused to wipe Philadelphia 's mouth and hand her the water, "is after you produce that baby. So here's what you do. The next time you have a contraction, you concentrate on making it stronger and harder. When the time comes, I'll tell you to push, and you bet ter damned well do it."

"I don't take orders from you. I'll do what I please!"

"Not today you won't. Today, me and Livvy and Mother Nature are going to dictate what you do. Now let go of those covers. I need to see if you're leaking blood again."

"No, you don't," Philadelphia snapped, baring her teeth. "If you think I'm going to let you inspect my bottom—"

"Before today is over, I'm going to be sick of looking at your bottom." Louise preferred a male patient every time. Women could be such a pain in the butt. She sighed. "Let go of the covers, or I will break your fingers."

"What?" Shock widened Philadelphia 's blue-green eyes, and her mouth dropped open. "What did you say?"

"I said I am going to check and see if you're bleeding again. If you resist, I'll break your fingers. And I'll enjoy doing it." Louise pried up one finger, pulling it back far enough that Philadelphia screamed and snatched her hand away.

"That's better."

"I … I can't … you… "

"I've been told my bedside manner stinks," Louise commented, hauling down the covers for a look. She didn't spot blood on the pad, or the cotton packing Livvy had put between Philadelphia 's legs. "Coddling only makes it harder to get things done."

Philadelphia screamed. "Livvy!"

Louise pulled up the covers and sat down. "I expect Livvy isn't one for coddling either, although I could be wrong."

"Not by much," Livvy said, carrying a tea tray into the room. Her nostrils pinched, and she glanced toward the vomit basin. "We'll start with sage tea, see where we go from there."

And so began six hours of vigilance, worry, work, and a growing sense of helplessness. Louise and Livvy took turns rubbing Philadelphia 's back, wiping sweat from her forehead, or wrapping her in extra blankets when the chills shook her. They brought her tansy tea and sage tea, gave her cold water when she demanded it, and held the bedpan when the urge inevitably came. They changed the bloody sheets and Philadelphia 's nightgown about once every hour and a half. Afterward, one of them would take the sheets and nightgown and the vomit basin downstairs where Gilly waited with a laundry tub and hot, fresh coffee.

When it was Louise's turn, she lingered, glad to escape the odors in the bedroom upstairs. Glad to sit for a minute and rest her own back.

But this time she strode into the kitchen too spitting mad to think about coffee or a minute's rest.

"What's happening up there?" Max asked. "It's been hours."

"Shut up," Howard snarled, then asked Louise the same question. An hour ago, Livvy had implored Howard to send for Doc Pope, but he'd refused. Until Philadelphia sent for him and asked him to fetch the doctor, he would not break his promise.

Furious, Louise walked up to him, slammed her fists on her hips, and leaned into his face. "Listen to me, you son of a bitch. Your daughter has been losing blood for six goddamned hours. She's weak, she's sick, she's in pain. And she is going to die if you don't get a doctor out here and damned soon! Whatever is happening up there, it's beyond what Livvy and I can handle. Now I don't like Philadelphia ; I don't like one damned thing about her. But I promised Max that she isn't going to die, and she goddamned well isn't! So. Are you going to send a cowboy to fetch the doc, or do I have to go out there, climb on a horse, and go get the doc myself! I promise you, somebody is going to town to get the doctor and right now. The question is, who's it going to be?"

"It's going to be me," Max said grimly. Long ago the men had shed jackets and ties and rolled up their sleeves. Max pushed down his cuffs and headed toward the back door where he'd hung his jacket.

"You're not going anywhere, McCord. This isn't your decision. Nobody goes for the doctor until I talk to my daughter first."

Louise ignored him. "Don't waste a minute, Max. She's in a real bad way."

"I'm going, too," Wally said, jumping to his feet. "I can't sit here doing nothing. I'm going crazy."

"You stay where you are! I'm going upstairs to speak to my daughter, then we'll decide."

"No, you're not going upstairs. Sit down, Mr. Houser." Louise gave him a push on his chest, and he was startled enough to sit down hard. "Believe me, you don't want to go up there. Give me that whiskey bottle. Gilly? I need a glass."

Gilly brought three glasses, dropped into a chair, then poured for herself, Louise, and Howard Houser.

"The clothesline is full of frozen sheets. All I can do now is wash them, wring them out, and stack them in the box over there in the corner. I don't know what we'll do about nightgowns. We've gone through all of Philadelphia 's, and we've started on Mama's." She gave Louise a look of anguish. "I'm so scared. Is Philadelphia going to die?"

Louise tossed back the whiskey, then studied the bottom of the glass. " Philadelphia 's lost a lot of blood. She's very sick and very weak. I hope the doctor can save her, but I guess it could go either way."

Houser propped his elbows on the table and dropped his head in his hands. "You're not a doctor; you don't know. What you are is a vulgar-mouthed interfering woman."

"I've been called worse."

He lifted his head and rubbed his eyes. "She's my only child. I've tried never to let her down. Now, because of you, I've broken my promise." His furious expression promised that she would regret crossing him.

"So what will you do, Mr. Houser? Will you punish me for trying to save your daughter's life? Punish Max for riding hell-bent for leather to fetch the doctor? What can you do to make our lives harder or make us more miserable than you've made us already?" Reaching for the bottle, she refilled her glass and then poured more whiskey for Gilly and Houser. "Maybe you won't wait until foreclosure to burn down Max's house. That would teach us not to interfere, wouldn't it. Or maybe you could send one of your minions to shoot what's left of Max's cattle. Yeah, that would teach us a lesson."

A deep plum color infused his cheeks, and he leaned toward her. "Whatever happens is well deserved.

Whose fault is it that my daughter may die?"

"I'm not sure," Louise said thoughtfully, moving her glass in damp circles on the table. "Maybe it's Philadelphia 's fault for not saying no when she should have. Maybe it's your fault for not setting limits and for letting her believe rules don't apply to her. Maybe it's Max's fault because he loved her too much.

Maybe it's your wife's fault for dying too soon. Maybe it's my fault for marrying Max when I didn't even want to. Maybe it's Livvy's fault for buying land outside Fort Houser and making it possible for her son to meet your daughter. Maybe the weather is to blame for providing a warm spring evening conducive to poking. I don't know who or what is to blame. What difference does it make? Will assigning blame change anything?"

"That's enough!" he said, speaking through his teeth.

"Yes, it is," she said wearily, pushing up from the table. "Gilly, we'll need a stack of fresh towels for the doctor. Your mother said to tell you to put out the roast beef for supper. People can eat if they feel like it."

Without glancing at Houser, Louise walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs and back into the oppressive and frightening odors and the sight of blood and pain. Livvy looked up with a worried and helpless expression and shook her head.