Sister's Choice (40 page)

“And leave it to you to come up with colors I would never think about putting together,” Helen said grudgingly. “But they work. I’ll give you that.”

Grace had wanted Jamie to think of spring and hope whenever she snuggled under the quilt. She thought of this as a comfort quilt, lap size and lightweight, for Jamie to carry with her during radiation treatments or later, if the doctors decided to add chemo for her breast cancer. The blocks were assembled in colors of mint-green, lavender, aqua and a peachy pink that was the color of the “ribbons” that wove throughout the pattern. The other women weren’t aware of the cancer yet. They were concentrating on Jamie’s generous gift to her sister, nine patient months of carrying Kendra’s two little boys. They assumed the quilt was for use after the birth. Whenever and however Jamie used it, she would feel renewed.

Kate stood and stretched. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to head home now. Rory will be back from school before long. But I did finish my section.”

“Anybody else planning to stay and help me complete this?” Helen asked.

Dovey and Cathy said they would. Grace got to her feet reluctantly. “My grandson’s coming to get me. But if you get the quilting all finished today, I can bind it this evening and get it ready to give her.”

They made arrangements for Cathy to take the quilt up to Grace at the orchard if the roads were safe enough. Grace made Cathy promise to think of a good story in case Jamie was the one who greeted her at the door.

Grace went to get her coat. She couldn’t remember a colder afternoon. That morning the roads had been icy slick, and she had been surprised that so many of the quilters had managed to make it in. The local roads looked fine now, but she suspected the ones going up toward the orchard might still be a problem. She was glad Cash was driving, and she hoped Jamie and the girls had made it home safely. She had called earlier, but nobody had answered. Jamie might well have been on her way out to the road to fetch Hannah from the school bus.

From a window overlooking the parking lot she watched for her grandson’s pickup, and didn’t put on her hat and gloves until she saw him pull in. Cash was out of the truck and halfway to the church door by the time she got outside.

“A lot of quilting must have gone on today for you to be here this late,” he said in greeting.

She gauged his mood. She had never thought of her grandson as easygoing, although he liked to project that impression. But he was a man who knew how to control his behavior, a fair man who thought through his responses, so it wasn’t obvious to everyone that the high-spirited toddler and hot-tempered teenager still resided somewhere deep inside him. She supposed she loved Cash more for the way he had come to terms with both. She only wished he had also come to terms with the part that was so easily hurt—the tender, sensitive soul that had shriveled into something harder and less accessible as Kary faded away.

“We’re making a quilt for Jamie, to commemorate what she’s been through for the past months. But it’s a surprise. It’s called Shining Hour.”

He was silent. She tried to interpret that and failed.

He held the pickup door and gave her a boost as she climbed in.

“Nobody knows about the cancer but me,” Grace continued once he was backing out of the parking lot. “But the other quilters wanted to do something just for her. No matter what she says now, it’s going to be hard when those babies go home in their mother and father’s arms. We want her to remember what a gift she’s given.”

“Why are you talking about Jamie?”

“Because you won’t. One of us has to.” She expected him to refute that, but he didn’t. With no other sign, she decided to call that positive.

“One of us happens to know something that the other doesn’t, too,” Grace continued. “Something else about Jamie. She’s not going to tell you, so I guess it’s up to me.”

“What’s up to you? More dark secrets? I’m afraid to ask.”

“That’s beneath you, dear. You’re afraid to ask, yes, but only because you want to know everything there is to know about her, and that scares you. You love her, have for some time, and you’re so frightened of it that you’ve shoved her out of your heart.”

“That’s pretty simplistic, don’t you think? You’ve just reduced my whole life to country-music lyrics.”

“I’ll tell you what she’s done. And I’ll show you later, if you think you can look at it with any objectivity. She’s drawn up a plan for the orchard.”

Grace saw that she had surprised him. He glanced at her, and his expression made that clear. “What kind of plan?”

“A brilliant one, I think.” Grace smiled.

“That’s all you’re going to say?”

“I’d like you to ask her about it. I’m sure if you worked on her, she’d show you the plans. She hasn’t said so, but I know she had Rosslyn and Rosslyn in mind to do the developing.”

“Developing?”

“Yes, developing.”

“I might be missing something here, but aren’t you against development?”

“The kind I’ve seen too much of, yes. Ticky-tacky houses with grandiose ideas about themselves crowded too close together. Developments with names like Mighty Oaks and not a tree in sight. But Jamie would never stoop to something like that.”

“You’re going to drag this out, aren’t you? Because we both know I’m not in any position to ask Jamie anything.”

“A position you put yourself in.”

He was silent for the next mile. She hadn’t gone into this lightly and assumed his silence might continue the whole way, but finally he spoke again.

“My life is a mess, isn’t it?”

Grace felt something too much like tears fill her eyes. “I wouldn’t go that far. And Lord knows, you’ve had your reasons for not admitting what you feel.”

“Tell me about the orchard.”

“She’s driven or tramped every bit of the land in the past months, even with the weather like it’s been and those babies weighing her down. She’s made so many notes, at times I wasn’t sure Shenandoah County had enough paper to suit her. But she’s done a rough plan that she shared with me a few nights ago. The idea is that there are places on the property that are really wasted now. Those views we’ve always taken for granted, terrain that doesn’t lend itself to anything but trees, and many of those need to come down since they’ve been poorly maintained. She isolated six places where she thinks groups of seven or eight environmentally friendly houses could be clustered in such a way everyone would have views and some private space, but most of the land around them would be held in common.”

“What about the apples?”

“Her plan would still leave perhaps sixty to seventy percent of the land as orchard, and it would be under a conservation easement so everyone would know up front that it could never be developed. Of course, that’s just one of many selling points.”

“What else?”

“She sees taking the old packing shed and turning it into a community space, something like a clubhouse with meeting rooms, a place for people to have parties, maybe a few apartments for guest overflow. One of the barns could be developed into studio space for local artisans. Some money from the sale of the homes would go into a common fund to hire skilled workers to manage and maintain the orchard. We might even get one of the universities to plant new varieties, do some small-scale experimentation, or develop strategies so we could eventually go organic. Anyway, residents would receive a share of the orchard profits, if there were any. She hasn’t worked out all those details. But she wants to be certain everyone has something at stake for keeping the orchard producing and producing well. She wants residents to feel the orchard is their heritage, too. I think she wants them to feel the same kind of enthusiasm your grandfather and I always did.”

It was a long speech, and still there had been more to Jamie’s plan. Much more, but this was enough to give Cash both the gist and a lot to think about. She had thought of very little herself since Jamie made her presentation.

Cash’s reaction was well protected. “Does she have any idea how much money it’ll cost to do this? Because a development like she’s imagining might make money down the road, and maybe even pay enough to maintain the orchard in the long run, but it’s not going to make anybody the kind of fast, inflated profits they’d want to go ahead with so large an undertaking.”

“Well, you’d be wrong there. Jamie has the money, you see. And she’s already said she’d bankroll it.”

“Why?”

“Because she can, dear. And because she sees it as doing her bit to save such a lovely piece of Shenandoah Valley history while giving more people access to it.”

“Granny Grace, she’s doing this because she wants to make
you
happy. Jamie wants to make everybody happy, no matter what.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s a great deal of it. But certainly not all. She’s quite taken with the idea for its own sake. I know she sees it as a chance to let some of that considerable creativity of hers loose and make a name for herself. Of course, she’ll need quite a lot of help. She’s talented, but she’s green, much the way I was when I had to assume responsibility for our land during the war.”

Grace watched Cash slow considerably as he rounded a curve close to their turnoff. She felt the tires slip a bit as he hit a patch of ice, then recovered.

She waited until they were safely moving again before she finished.

“Jamie is one of those rare people who’s willing to give whatever she can when the opportunity presents itself. She has her own reasons for that, of course. I believe she hit bottom at one point in her life, and from that moment on, she has felt incredibly blessed that she was one of the lucky ones who managed to climb back up. She wants forgiveness, yes, and friendship, but that’s only the smallest part of it. She wants to give back. She feels so grateful that she was given a second chance, you see. The rest of her life will be about giving second chances to others, in whatever way she can, in whatever time she has. I can understand that so much generosity of spirit might be a problem for some men. But I can’t believe that if you search your heart, you’ll find it’s really a problem for you.”

“Everybody seems to understand me so well. Except me.”

“I don’t think this is about understanding yourself, John Cashel Rosslyn. It’s about admitting what you know and moving forward again. You’ve been stuck in Neutral long enough.”

“Jamie said we were done.”

“Did you say something similar to her?”

“I did.”

“Was it true?”

He sighed.

“Then I suppose we can assume that she may not have meant it, either.”

Grace expected an answer. She didn’t expect him to slam on the brakes. But suddenly the pickup fishtailed and nearly went into a ditch. Grace grabbed the dashboard, but before she could ask what was going on, Cash had thrust his door open and was leaping down.

She saw why. Hannah, with no coat or hat, was running down the road in their direction. The little girl barreled right into Cash’s outstretched arms.

“Mommy’s having the babies!”

Grace started to ask exactly what Hannah meant, but Cash had already taken charge. He hoisted Hannah into the pickup and thrust her at his grandmother. Then he jumped in, too. And in a moment, the pickup was racing toward the farmhouse.

J
amie had carefully thought through her afternoon. At ten she and Kendra had seen Dr. Raille, who was much more accommodating now that Kendra had been brought into the loop about Jamie’s health. Her weight and blood pressure had been checked, her urine tested, the babies probed and pummeled through her abdomen. She had been asked about contractions—erratic and unreliable—the amount and quality of kicking and whether she would like to have labor induced now that the twins—at thirty-seven weeks—were more or less considered full-term for multiples. Both babies appeared to weigh at least six pounds. They were ready to be born.

With Kendra pushing to go ahead, Jamie had promised to sleep on it, but by the time her sister dropped her at home and drove down the mountain to get Alison, she had decided Kendra was right. The time had come, and scheduling the birth meant that everyone could be present, rested and prepared. She and Kendra had already gone to the two required childbirth seminars, which were old hat for Jamie but new for her sister. Nothing would be gained by delaying another week or two, and she could begin treatment for the cancer that much sooner.

When Kendra returned, Jamie called the doctor’s office and received a promise that they would call tomorrow with a day and time. Then, once Hannah’s bus arrived, Jamie, Kendra and the girls celebrated the impending birthday with mugs of hot cider, oatmeal cookies and a story about the day the eggs in Sister Duck’s nest began to hatch.

After that, Kendra volunteered to stay until Grace returned from the Bee, but Jamie shooed her out the door. She had just seen the doctor, the girls were home, the phone was working and Grace was due back by late afternoon. She would rest, and Kendra, who was now looking shellshocked, could break the news to Isaac, who had been using the cabin for team-building meetings with some of his colleagues. Before too many more days went by, the Taylors would be holding their sons in their arms.

Jamie had been glad to see her sister’s car drive away. She wanted time to herself for another reason, too. She was about to enter a new phase of her life. Nine months had passed, and in the next days, she would be handing over the fruit of those months to her sister and brother-in-law. She knew there would be an inevitable sense of loss; then, before she could even grieve, she would have to begin treatment for the cancer. Elisa Kinkade had made arrangements for her to see some of the area’s most adept professionals, and she had already met with one. But there would be more appointments and decisions, and now that everything was right around the corner, she needed a chance to say a silent goodbye to the babies and to her past.

She curled up on the sofa with the girls, and while they watched
E.T.
on video, she closed her eyes. The next thing she remembered was a sharp, all-too-familiar pain knifing through her, and a puddle forming beneath her.

Her water had broken, and she was in labor. Not gently or considerately, but with a vengeance.

At first she was sure there was no need to panic. Previous labors had taken at least half a day. She asked Hannah to bring her the telephone, only to discover the line was dead. She had used it earlier to call Dr. Raille’s office and schedule the delivery. But that had been more than an hour ago. Had she thought to check it before dismissing her sister? She couldn’t remember. Ice had formed at higher elevations, and not just on the roads. Trees had probably suffered, too. Had she or even Kendra been thinking clearly, they would have realized that, as the ice melted and branches and tree limbs snapped, lines that had initially worked might come down.

She explained why the sofa was damp, then left the girls to discuss this odd biological event while she went to shower quickly and change. The next few contractions were halfhearted, but closer together than she liked. The next few weren’t halfhearted at all.

Dressed again, she remembered her cell phone and attempted to call out, but she knew it was a long shot. She rarely had luck with reception at the orchard. A month ago she’d spent part of one afternoon wandering the property trying various spots for coverage. She’d found one hilltop at the property’s edge where she had been able to make a call. But if she went to all the trouble now of getting in the car to drive there, she might as well drive herself into town.

Except that labor seemed to be progressing at a speed that made both options sound like a bad idea.

Hannah joined her in the bedroom then, eyebrows knit in a straight line, cheeks pale. Jamie tried to reassure her. Granny Grace would be home before long; then somebody would be here to take Mommy to the hospital. There was plenty of time. Mommy was just going to lie down for a little while. Then, if nobody came, she might drive to a neighbor’s to see if their telephone was working. But Hannah wasn’t to worry.

But Hannah
had
worried. After ten minutes of rest and two strong contractions, Jamie realized that she had to do something quickly. She got up, located her purse and keys and struggled into the living room to find her older daughter gone and her younger mesmerized by a bicycling E.T.

“Alison, where’s your sister?” Jamie asked, trying not to gasp out the words.

“She went for Hep.” Alison glanced at her mother.

“Who’s Hep?”

Hannah had gone for help.
For a moment Jamie felt weak, and not from the struggle inside her. Her daughter was outside, alone, on the coldest day of the year.

“We have to find her.” Jamie went for Alison’s coat and found Hannah’s hanging on the peg beside it. Hannah was outside alone without protection. Another contraction began, and she forced herself to move through it, ignoring the all-too-familiar tightening of a womb trying to expel guests who had overstayed their welcome.

She grabbed Hannah’s coat along with Alison’s, and called her youngest daughter. A mutinous Alison took her time but finally came in to slip it on.

“I want to watch
E.T.!
”

“This is an emergency. The babies are coming. And we have to find Hannah.”

“She’s with Hep!”

“Help, Alison. She went for
help,
because the phone’s not working. And she’s not wearing her coat.”

“Are you sick?”

Jamie felt sick. She felt weak and scared, and although she didn’t have time to chart the contractions, they weren’t getting any further apart. She was worried about Hannah, and at the same time, she was hoping that her daughter had managed to scare up one of the orchard employees. Unfortunately, she knew that was doubtful. January was the slowest time of the year, and she was pretty sure that the few permanent workers were off visiting their families or enjoying warmer weather farther south.

“I’m not sick, but I do have to go to the hospital.” She pulled a stocking cap over Alison’s untidy curls and threaded mittens through the sleeves of her coat. “We have to do it now. You have to listen and do what I say.”

Alison’s eyes were big as a full moon, and she nodded. Jamie grabbed Isaac’s ski jacket and began to slip it on when a new contraction hit. She sucked in a breath and felt the room fade. She collapsed into the nearest chair and put her head in her hands. She had never experienced anything quite like this.

The door opened, and she looked up, afraid that Alison, like her sister, was going to take matters into her own hands. Instead, Cash strode in, Hannah bundled against his chest. He lowered her to the floor, and Hannah leaped across the room and threw her arms around her mother.

“It’s okay now, Mommy. Everything is okay now.
Cash
is here. Cash can make
anything
okay.”

Jamie looked up and saw the conflicting emotions in the okay-man’s expression. “Can you get me to the hospital?” The words were hardly more than a whisper. “You won’t have to stay. Kendra and Isaac will take it from there.”

He knelt beside her; then he leaned over and kissed her gently. “Sweetcakes, not only will I get you there, nobody’s going to pry me away. Not ever again. Whether you like it or not.” He hesitated, then reversed himself. “Unless that’s not what you want?”

She knew there were better times for reunions. She knew there was still so much to say. But she heard everything she needed in his voice and saw even more in his eyes.

“You’re all I want.” She took a deep breath, then another. “You and these…babies out of here.”

He grinned, kissed her quickly again, then stood. “You got it, Miss Jamie. Let’s go make that happen.”

Happen it did. Not with the scientific intervention that had created two little embryos. Not with the fear that had dogged every step of the initial months. Not with complications, no matter how brief. Not with the emotional drama of those final weeks in utero. And not in the place where they had been scheduled to be born.

There had been no chance of making the trip to Front Royal in time. Once they’d driven down the mountain far enough to use Jamie’s cell phone, Dr. Raille had ordered them to the hospital in nearby Woodstock, where she agreed to meet them as soon as she could. With Kendra and Isaac already in town, nothing could have worked out better.

Now there were just two babies—moments from being born, heart rates exactly where they should be—lined up as if they had an agreement to enter the world without fanfare.

“I told you…this was my greatest…talent!” Jamie told Kendra, in between pushes.

Kendra wiped her sister’s forehead. Cash was holding one of Jamie’s hands and Isaac the other. At first, she had been delighted to have so much attention—particularly Cash’s—but now she wished everybody would go away and leave her alone. Experienced as she was, she knew this was a sure sign the first baby was about to make an appearance.

“I think one more push will bring some real results, Miss Dunkirk. You’re doing great. Everything’s going fine.”

Jamie thought this was the most enthusiasm Dr. Raille had ever showed. Annoyed, she wondered if the doctor saved her skimpy personal store for these moments. Cash leaned over so she could see him.

“Are we having fun yet?” he asked.

“I am not having fun!”

“You’re a brave woman. I would never,
never,
do what you’re doing. I could have warned you. I’ve seen mares giving birth.”

He was trying to make her laugh, and he almost succeeded. Then the next contraction began, and she closed her eyes and started to push, squealing at the effort.

“Head’s crowning,” Dr. Raille said. “Good, good, good! Now stop pushing.”

“No!” Jamie puffed and panted, but managed to do as the doctor ordered as one of the delivery nurses looked on approvingly. Moments passed, and the contraction ended without a baby, but with enough pressure to make it clear one was nearly there. Now Jamie was panting from the exertion, and the sensation that she was being stretched wide enough to give birth to a colt herself. The labor had gone so quickly that she had opted to forgo drugs, the final gift she could give the twins. But now she was sorry she’d been so generous.

“I want this…done with!” she said, to nobody in particular.

Kendra wiped her forehead again. “I’m sorry, sis. I wish I could take over.”

“You and me both!”

“Okay, this one will do it. Mrs. Taylor, come and watch. Don’t push now, Miss Dunkirk, let the contraction do the rest of it.”

“Easy for you to saaay!” Jamie gasped and closed her eyes.

Kendra sounded ecstatic. “Oh, look. Look!”

Jamie didn’t look. She was concentrating too hard to pay attention to anything else.

“Open those eyes, sweetcakes,” Cash said in her ear. “And watch your nephew make his appearance.”

She did open them, just to shut him up, and in the mirror at her feet she saw the full miracle come to its natural conclusion. For a moment she forgot everything else.

“Well, it’s a boy,” Dr. Raille said, “although we’re not surprised, are we?”

Jamie had seen enough. She closed her eyes, and for a moment she couldn’t think of anything except how much better she felt. At least temporarily.

She heard a cry, lusty enough to make her smile weakly. At this point in her daughters’ births, she had felt such a surge of maternal love that she had wanted to sit up and take the baby in her arms, even before the doctor had examined her. Now, for the most part, she felt drained. And cautious. Not simply because of the unique situation, but because she knew there was one more to go.

“Jamie, he’s beautiful!” Kendra sounded far away. “I think he has curly hair.”

“I had nothing…to do with that.”

“Sure you did. You made it possible!”

Reluctantly, Jamie opened her eyes. Kendra and Isaac were hovering over the doctor, who had just finished cutting the cord.

“Let the nurse weigh him, but he looks great,” Dr. Raille said. “I’m guessing he’s at least six pounds. And his color’s good. We’ll let you have him in a moment.”

Jamie started to respond; then she realized the doctor was addressing her sister. For a moment she felt disoriented, as if she had run a race and won first place, but somebody else was accepting the trophy.

Cash bent over her again. “I think I can steal him for a minute, if you want to hold him,” he said softly.

She was touched that he had, without words between them, understood what she was feeling. “No…let Kendra and Isaac have their time with him.”

He took her hand. “What can I do for
you?
”

“You said you would never…be caught dead in a delivery room.”

“I said a lot of things.” He smoothed back her hair with his free hand and planted a kiss on her forehead.

“You’re not…just feeling sorry for me?”

He laughed. “I do feel sorry for you. I meant what I said. I don’t know how the female of the species does what she does.”

“Cash…I won’t be doing this…ever again. You realize?”

“You don’t have to. There’re a couple of little girls up at Cashel Orchard who are pretty sure I walk on water. That’s good enough for me.”

She blinked back tears. “I’m sorry…I didn’t tell you the truth right away.”

“Apparently your instincts were good.” He raised her hand to his lips. “I just don’t want to lose you, Jamie. But from now on I’m planning to take every minute you give me.”