“Lincoln?”
Epilogue
Eight months later
Dogtown, Colorado
“Are you sure you can’t make him stay inside for another month?” Mitch stood in front of Priscilla, staring at her rolling belly, his hands fisted on his hips.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Priscilla panted, grabbing the sheets and twisting them. “I can’t make her do anything. She’s telling me what to do.”
“Jesse will skin me alive when this baby comes a month early.”
“Miitttcchhhh!”
Sweat broke out on his forehead. “What? What do you want me to do?”
“Where’s the doctor?”
“I told you already, he’s on his way. He was finishing up his dinner. He said first babies take a long time.”
“How would he know? How many babies has he given birth to?” she growled.
“Why don’t I rub your back?”
She stared panting again. “Not…just…yet.” A low moan started in her throat and then turned into a wail.
“Pa, Mrs. Sweeney is here. She said the doc asked her to sit with Priscilla until he comes.” Ian looked askance from his pa to his ma. “Is Ma going to be all right?”
“Oh, good, good. Yes, that’s a great idea. And your ma is fine. Just a couple of pains.” He began backing away. “I’ll just be, you know, outside.” He turned and fled down the steps.
Memories haunted him of Polly screaming in pain before she’d finally given up and died after Ian had slid out of her body. The images scared him to death. He’d had many conversations with the doc over the past eight months about Priscilla and the baby. The doctor reassured him over and over that Priscilla was a fine specimen for birthing, was healthy and strong, had nice wide hips, her mama had given birth to five healthy children, and he had nothing to worry about.
“Thank you for coming.” Mitch gripped Mrs. Sweeney’s hand.
“Nothing to worry about, Mitch. Go on about your business. Check up on Ernest at the store. When I passed by on my way here he was trying to load a pistol. Could hardly see the chamber.”
Mitch thanked her and hurried to the shop, Ian right behind him. “Pa, do you think we should stay home? Suppose Ma needs us?”
“She’s fine. They really don’t want us there.” He looked at Ian and brought himself up short. Did he want to teach his son to run from difficult situations? Was he not man enough to stay with his wife who he loved more than life itself?
Hell, yes he was.
“Come on, son. Let’s go home. Like it or not, we’re staying with your Ma until your brother is born.”
“Suppose my brother is a sister?”
“It’s all right. Your ma wears pants now and again. I guess your sister can, too.”
Priscilla lay back on the pillows, exhausted. Sweat covered her body, her nightgown sticking to her soaked body. But she was happier than she’d been in her whole life. Right now a red-faced little girl was receiving her first bath from Mrs. Sweeney. From th
e sound of her lungs, she wasn’t happy about it either.
“Let me get you cleaned up, too, before your husband comes in. He’s been downstairs wearing out the carpet for hours now. He tried to come up here a few times, but I wouldn’t let him. Men don’t belong in the room where ladies are giving birth.” The woman tsked a few times as she washed and dressed Priscilla in a fresh nightgown. Then she handed the baby to her and left the room.
“Can we come in?” Mitch stood at the door.
“Honey, you look like hell,” Priscilla said as she waved him and Ian into the bedroom. “Come say hello to your new daughter.”