The Christmas Treasure (15 page)

Lorilla sighed in exasperation. "You're worse than a jailer. I feel as if I'm in prison with no visitors. I can't wait to have my baby and be free." She winced as a dull ache settled in her lower back.
 

"Ha. Free? Once that one come, then you know the meaning of free, but you will not have it. You will only remember it fondly. That one keep you busier than you ever hoped to be. Now,
vamanos
. We have much cooking still to do."
 

"Are you sure I can't--oh!"

"Senora Lorilla, what is it?" Josepha's eyes widened as Lorilla put her hand on her distended stomach.

"Oh…nothing. Just another--twinge, that's all."

"Another? How long you have this 'twinge'?"

"It started sometime during the night. But, I'm all right. Really."

Josepha took Lorilla's arm and started out of the kitchen, spewing Spanish.

"Josepha!" Lorilla laughed. "I'm fine. Stop pulling. I can't climb the stairs as fast as--oh, no!"

Something awful was happening. Lorilla looked down at herself. She could feel a warm wetness flowing down her legs beneath her wrapper.
 

"Oh dear," she muttered.

Josepha turned and clapped her palms against her cheeks. "The water, she is broke. Maria Joseph!" she screamed, then rushed Lorilla up the stairs and into the bedroom.
 

Before Lorilla could comprehend what had happened, Josepha had her out of her soaked wrapper and gown and into the bed, with a folded sheet under her.
 

"Josepha, what's happening?"

"Your water, it is broke," Josepha said, her accent thickening in the excitement. "It will not be long now before we see the little one. Maria Joseph! Boil water."
 

"No!"

"Pardon?" Josepha stared at Lorilla in shock.

"No!" Lorilla shook her head, panic stealing her breath. "It's too soon. It's not time. Josepha, help me stop it."

"Ach, you have the time wrong. The baby, he is ready to be born."

"No." She shook her head, bunching the sheet in her fists. "I don't have it wrong. I'm certain. It was the first week in May. I've been counting. That's only eight months."
 

"Eight months is nothing. Jesus, he could not wait to come. He is born seven months."

Lorilla assessed Josepha, wondering if she were lying just to make her feel better. "Really? Seven months? And Jesus is fine, right?"
 

"Si. He was a small one, but you see him now. Taller than his father. I told you, your body, she know best. It is time."
 

Lorilla felt a wary relief. The baby was ready, but there was another consideration. She rubbed her distended belly, and talked to her child. "All right then, baby. I know you're ready to be born, but you have to wait for your father. He must be here when his child is born. We can't let him down." She looked at Josepha. "Just go back to your baking. We're going to wait for Gabriel."
 

Another pain seared through her, the worst one so far. "Oh. Now little one, please relax…and wait for…your father."
 

Josepha started out of the room, then stuck her head back in. "I will send for the doctor. Then I be back. You stay."
 

Lorilla smiled with an effort. "I'm not going anywhere, Josepha. But I'm not having the baby until Gabriel gets home."
 

Josepha just shook her head as she left.

Lorilla spent the day in bed, alternating between bouts of excruciating contractions and periods of calm, when she would nap. By the time the sun went down, the doctor still had not shown up, and Josepha's wizened face was pinched with worry.
 

"Senora, Lorilla, you must push. You must breathe deep and push."

Lorilla braced for another agonizing pain. When it hit her, the intensity stole her breath and exhaustion lay like a pall over her. But Josepha's voice droned on and on, like a persistent bee, urging her to push, push, push more…
 

"I…can't…push…any…more," she wheezed, then collapsed as the contraction, which was the worst one yet, finally let go of her insides.
 

She awoke, gasping, with the sensation of drowning. But it was only Maria Joseph bathing her face with cool water.

She was so tired. Exerting a great effort, she looked around the room. "Why is it dark, Josepha?" she whispered.

"Ah, Lorilla, it is nighttime, and the snow, she is falling."

Lorilla licked dry lips and struggled to breathe. Her limbs quivered, her eyes would not remain open. Too tired, too tired.
 

"Christmas eve. Gabriel promised he'd be back by Christmas."

She took a ragged breath, and hot tears burned her eyes. "He's not coming back, is he?" she whispered. "He doesn't love me. I thought I could make him happy by giving him a baby, but he still loves Elena."
 

"Hush, little one, hush. Save your strength. This baby want to be born, and you must let it. You cannot wait for Senor Gabriel. The baby will suffocate."
 

Josepha bathed Lorilla's face with cool water, and Lorilla's tongue lapped out at the droplets.
 

"The baby? No. The baby will be fine. We're just waiting for Gabriel."

She gasped and cried out as another wrenching contraction enveloped her. "Gabriel will come home for…his baby. Not for me. But that's--okay. He needs
 

his child. I can--leave. A…a burden. Always a burden. I'm sorry, Gabriel. I am so--sorry."
 

G
ABRIEL PULLED HIS COAT
tighter around him and tugged his broad-brimmed hat further down on his forehead. The snow hadn't let up. If anything, it was getting worse. He'd been riding for over two hours from Santa Fe. His horse knew the way home, but Gabriel was worried. The animal was exhausted and blinded by the snow, just like he was. It was taking too long. They should have reached the hacienda by now.
 

He flexed his fingers inside his leather gloves. They creaked with the cold. And even with the sheepskin-lined coat, his body felt chilled through. If he was lost, he could die out here, and no one would find him until spring. And he would never see Lorilla again.
 

The thought made his heart ache with loneliness. He'd been gone almost eight months. Gabriel blinked against the snow that blew into his eyes. Eight months, and the last time he had seen her, he had hurt her. Those last moments had played over and over in his head, until he thought he would scream.
 

He knew why she was upset that day. He had left their bed to visit his dead wife's grave. What would any woman think? Then he'd made light of her fears.
 

He winced as he remembered his last words to her.

Perhaps you are more trouble than you're worth
. He'd thrown the comment at her as he'd ridden away. He was a coward. He'd been so afraid of his feelings that he'd lashed out at her with the biting sarcasm he knew hurt her. He deserved to be horsewhipped for that, especially when the truth was if she'd asked him one more time not to go he would have gladly told the governor to find someone else.
 

Then her last words came back to him.

Don't expect anything when you return
.
 

What if she had decided to return to St. Louis? He shook his head. No. He could not believe that. He knew she loved him. She had told him in so many ways.
 

Had she ever said the words? Gabriel knew she hadn't, but then, he had never told her either. What kind of stubborn pride had kept him from declaring his love? He'd finally admitted to Elena that he loved Lorilla. Why hadn't he said the same words to her?
 

The snow was getting worse. Gabriel raised his head to look around. He blinked, then looked again. Was that a faint glow? Or was he snow-blind? He urged his horse forward. The animal's pace quickened. As soon as the horse's hooves clattered on the front terrace, Gabriel bounded off its back and slammed the doors open.
 

"Lorilla!"

No one answered. Gabriel flung his snow caked coat and hat down in the front hall, his body shivering as the warmth of the house seeped into his chilled bones.
 

He looked around. No lamps had been lit. Where was everyone?
 

Suddenly, fear clutched at his chest. Something was wrong. Had Lorilla left him after all? The desolation he felt at the possibility almost undid him.
 

"Josepha? Maria Joseph!" He shouted. "Where is everyone?"

Then he heard it. A scream…someone in intense pain.

Lorilla
!
 

Gabriel bounded up the stairs two and three at a time, as dread pierced his heart. He burst into his bedroom, and the sight that greeted him nearly drove him to his knees.
 

Lorilla, her flaming hair tangled and dripping with perspiration, sat up in bed with nothing but a white sheet draped over her. Josepha crouched on the bed in front of Lorilla's drawn up legs. Maria Joseph held a pan of water and a cloth, which she used to mop Lorilla's forehead.
 

"Push, Lorilla, push. Senora, push!" Josepha cried, and Lorilla panted.

"Ah. . . ah . . . Ahh!" she screamed weakly. "I--can't, Josepha. It's no…use." She collapsed back against the pillows, her face pale as the sheet, purple shadows rimming her eyes and a drop of blood on her lip where she'd bitten it.
 

"Come on, do not stop. I can see the baby's head." Josepha pressed her palms against Lorilla's knees. "Keep pushing!"
 

"
Madre de Dios
," Gabriel whispered, as his frozen brain slowly took in the sight in front of him. "Lorilla," he choked out, his chest tightening until he thought he would suffocate.
 

Josepha didn't even look up. "
Patron
! Gabriel! Come here. Your baby is being born, and your wife need you."
 

Lorilla's head turned slightly, although she didn't open her eyes. "Gabriel?"

Gabriel's heart broke at the sound of her weak, exhausted voice. "Si, Senora Beltran," his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and swallowed hard against a growing lump. He blinked back tears. "It's your prodigal husband, returned at last."
 

He stripped off everything but his breeches, and climbed onto the bed beside Lorilla. Carefully, as Josepha nodded her approval, he picked his wife up and nestled her between his legs, so he could support her as she strained to bear their child.
 

He felt her body shiver as his cold skin met hers.

Gabriel brushed wet hair off Lorilla's forehead and wrapped his arms around her. "We'll push together, okay,
chiquita
?"
 

Lorilla barely nodded. He could feel her fast, fluttering pulse under his lips as he kissed the side of her neck. He shot a questioning look at Josepha.
 

Josepha gave a barely perceptible shrug. Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut at the message. She wasn't sure if Lorilla would make it.
Dios
! How would he live without her?
 

"What kind of mischief have you gotten into while I was gone, wife, that you have ended up in such a state?" He struggled to keep his voice light.
 

Lorilla didn't respond.

"
Chiquita
? Josepha, what can I do?"
 

"I have send for the doctor, but he has not come."

Gabriel nodded grimly. "The blizzard."

"If she does not push," Josepha said, "the baby, she will die."

Gabriel set his jaw. "And my wife?"

"She is bleeding. And her strength is gone."

Raw pain tore his broken heart to bits. He hugged Lorilla's precious, limp body to him and buried his nose in her fiery sunset hair.
 

"Lorilla," he rasped. "Don't quit trying. Please. You promised me you wouldn't die. I've lived eight months for the moment when I'd be home, holding you in my arms."
 

He swallowed. "You must keep your promise,
chiquita
. You have the will. I know you do. Stay with me, Rilla."
 

He gently turned her face to his and kissed her lips, wishing he could breathe life into her. "Come on,
chiquita
, wake up. We have work to do."
 

"Gabriel?" Lorilla's voice was no more than a breath, but Gabriel almost sobbed with relief.

"Si, Rilla. I'm here. Please help me. I want to see our child."
 

"Here comes a contraction," Josepha warned. "Push, Senor y Senora, push!"

Gabriel held Lorilla's small, fragile body in the cradle of his. Her weak hands squeezed his as she gathered the last dregs of her energy.
 

"You came back," she rasped.
 

"Of course I did. Now push." He could barely see, his eyes were so hazy, but he felt her panting, straining, so he lent her all the energy he could and talked to her the whole time. "One would think you were a city girl, too weak for this life. Push harder."
 

She stiffened against him. "You think I can't…do this?" she wheezed, her thready voice barely audible.

But Gabriel heard her familiar determination, and his heart soared with hope.

"I've birthed colts and fed cattle and bandaged wounds…while you were sipping…brandy with the President. Ahh!" Her body trembled with effort.
 

Gabriel held onto her, whispering encouragement as the contraction wracked her exhausted body.

"Good!" Josepha cried. "Just a little more!"

Then Gabriel witnessed an amazing sight. Their baby emerged from the mess of white sheets and blood and water, and his breath stuck in his throat and tears slipped down his cheeks.
 

Sobbing weakly, Lorilla collapsed back against him as Josepha laid the tiny squirming bundle on her stomach.

Gabriel wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her naked shoulder, his tears mixing with the beads of perspiration on her skin.