A Dream to Follow (6 page)

“Bad cat!” With a yowl, he jumped back to the floor and scooted under the table. “What do you think you’re doing?” She brushed the drops off her hand with her napkin, then scrubbed the marks off her textbook before cleaning her skirt. “Stupid animal.”

“Meow.”

“Too bad. You could see I was busy.” She caught herself, reviewing what she’d said. “As if you know what I’m saying.” Shaking her head, she laid the book face down on the table and, lifting the cutwork linen tablecloth, stuck her face under the edge. “Jehoshaphat, come here, boy. I’m sorry.” She made comforting noises, but the cat was having none of it. Tail in the air, he padded out from his hideout, stalked over to his chair, and leaped up. Without looking at her, he proceeded to clean again.

“Serves you right.” Elizabeth poured herself another cup of tea and continued reading. Later, when she cleared the table, she saw the tea stains. “Oh no. Mother will be after me now.” She glanced over to see the empty chair. Jehoshaphat had scrammed. “Always one more thing. What’s wrong with being allowed to study without interruptions?” All the while she lifted the cloth from the table and set it to soak in cold water. Perhaps the stain would just disappear. Perhaps the sun would rise in the west too.

When the page blurred and rubbing her eyes no longer helped, she climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Had her father come in without stopping to talk? Or had he stopped all right, but not at home?

She paused beside the closed dark oak door to her parents’ bedroom, listening for her father’s floor-shaking snore. Nothing. He’d not come home yet. Morning would be stiff again with her mother hardly talking, and if he did make it to church, he’d fall asleep during the sermon. She was grateful she sang in the choir so she didn’t have to sit with them.

Sometimes she hated council meetings. Or wherever else he’d been.

The next morning church passed as she’d thought it would. She kept her gaze off the slumped figure in the third row on the right. You’d have thought at least her parents would have had the decency to sit in the back. But no matter, third pew on the right belonged to the Rogers family, as much as if they’d paid for it. Relief surged through her when the pastor pronounced the benediction and the choir stood for the closing hymn. If her salvation depended on what she’d learned in church this morning, she’d be heading the other way. As Pastor Mueller made his way to the narthex to greet people as they filed out, she and the other choir members exited to the choir room to divest themselves of their robes.

“Went right well,” Dr. Gaskin, lead baritone, pronounced. The fact that he said the same whenever he made it to church made no difference. Everyone nodded and wished each other a good week.

“Miss Rogers?”

Elizabeth turned. “Yes?”

“I’m thinking Mrs. Sidney might be going into labor today. If you want to come along, you be ready.”

“Oh, thank you. I will.” Elizabeth followed the others out the side door of the brick church, complete with bell tower and white window trim. She shaded her eyes with her gloved hand. Her mother and father waited in the buggy. New leaves, still tight to the branches, furred the oak trees that lined the hitching posts where members of the congregation tied up their horses. When she reached the buggy, she looked up at her father.

“I think I’ll walk home. It’s such a beautiful day.”

“We’ll be eating right away. Your father says he has to go back down to the paper.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth climbed into the rear seat of the buggy. Since this was the cook’s day off, she knew she’d be expected to help put dinner on the table. And if her father had to wait, he’d turn into a grumbling bear. “I thought you weren’t going to work on Sundays anymore.”

“That’s what he always says.” Annabelle clasped her hands on her watered-silk dress, nodded to an acquaintance, and shot her husband a look compounded with equal parts sadness and disdain.

The ride home passed in silence, matching that on the drive over.

They’d just finished dinner when the doorbell clanged.

“I’ll get it.” Elizabeth wiped her mouth with her napkin and pushed her chair back. “That was delicious, as always, Mother. Thank you.”

“Won’t you be having dessert? Cook made a canned peach pie.”

Elizabeth left the dining room and, like a diver coming up for air, paused to take a deep breath and let it all out. Now her step regained its usual bounce, and a smile returned. “I’m coming,” she answered to another knock. She opened the door. “Oh, Dr. Gaskin, so soon?”

“Told you to be ready. You coming or not?”

“I’m coming. Let me tell Mother and get my apron. Should I bring anything else? Like peach pie?”

“We’ll get that later. This baby’s in a hurry.”

Elizabeth flew back down the hall, called to her mother as to what she was doing, grabbed her apron and a shawl in case they were late, and was out the door before the doctor had finished climbing into his buggy.

“Whew. Oh, I forgot my hat.” She paused before sitting down.

“Too late.” The buggy was already in motion, causing her an abrupt connection with the leather seat. He clucked the horse to a fast trot and headed south of town. “How’s school coming?”

“Near to the end of the term. I’ve been studying like mad for my biology exams. The lab class takes a lot of time, memorizing and dissecting. Going to Carleton for science classes is not really convenient.”

“You think that’s hard, wait till you get to med school. You have to memorize every bone, muscle, nerve—every part of the human body. But with a mind as good as yours, that won’t be hard.”

“If they let me in.”

“Don’t borrow trouble. The Lord says to let the day’s own trouble be sufficient for the day.”

“I know.”

“Now tell me the steps for a delivery.”

Elizabeth listed them, using her fingers to count on for memory.

“What if the baby doesn’t start to breathe?”

“Then rub the chest, raise the arms over the head, and if all else fails, smack the buttocks.”

“Sometimes breathing in the face helps or compressing the chest real gentlelike. Remember to check the throat and nose for any obstructions.”

“I read in a book that swishing the baby in warm water can help too.” Elizabeth turned sideways to look at her mentor and friend.

“Hmm, not surprised. After all, the baby’s been swimming in warm water for nine months.” He turned the team into a long lane that led to a white two-story farmhouse. A dog ran out to bark at the wheels. A man stepped down off the porch as soon as they reached the gate to a picket fence.

“I’ll take care of your horse. You better hurry.”

“You got the water boiling?”

“Yup. And clean towels and sheets and things for the baby. Martha’s been prepared for days now. Go straight through the kitchen. She’s in our bedroom.”

“Think I don’t know the way? Third baby in less than three years— going to wear her plumb out.” The doctor muttered his way into the bedroom, where shades were drawn over the windows.

“Howdy, Miz Sidney. Looks like that baby’s in some kind of hurry.”

The woman on the bed arched with another contraction, this one lifting her clear off the bed. “In . . . a . . . hurry, but . . .” She sighed and sank back down, panting as though she’d been running. “Can’t seem to go no farther.”

“All right. Let me get scrubbed up here and see what we can see.” He turned to Elizabeth. “You scrub too. If it’s what I think, those small hands of yours are going to come in plenty handy.”

Elizabeth did as she was told, flinching at the groan that came from the bed. This was her third delivery. She should be used to the agony that preceded the ecstasy of a baby to hold. She watched as the doctor examined the woman, shaking his head, humming a little tune all the while.

“Now, Miz Sidney, I think what we have here is a breech. I’m going to have Elizabeth help turn the baby when I give her the signal. First, let’s help you up onto your hands and knees.”

“Doctor, you got—” She huffed a couple of times as another contraction hit, then groaned deeply.

“All right, dear, ride with it. That’s right.” When she relaxed again, Dr. Gaskin nodded for Elizabeth to wipe her face. “Now roll this way.” He pulled the woman by the shoulder. “That’s right. Hands and knees. See, this takes the pressure off the baby and lets it relax for a minute.”

He nodded to Elizabeth. “Now you see if you can help that baby turn around, just like they do with lambs and calves.”

Elizabeth swallowed hard, her hands shaking so badly she was afraid they wouldn’t do what was needed.

“Now, this is going to hurt some, Miz Sidney, but bear with us.”

Oh, God, please help me. I don’t know what I’m doing
. But at the doctor’s insistent nod, she did as told.

“What do you feel?”

“A foot, I think.”

“Okay, now with the next contraction, turn that baby.”

As Mrs. Sidney let out a scream that could be heard clear to town, Elizabeth pushed the foot back while the doctor manipulated the hanging belly. Elizabeth gritted her teeth, closed her eyes, and concentrated on what her hand was feeling. The baby was moving.

Mrs. Sidney screamed again—long, drawn out, tapering off as if she had nothing left to scream with.

“You’re doing fine. You got to stay with us,” Dr. Gaskin said.

“It turned. I have the head.” Elizabeth removed her hand, tears streaming down her cheeks. “It turned, Doctor.”

“I know, dear.” He beckoned to Elizabeth again. “Now, I’ll hold her while you help ease the baby out. Turn the shoulders gently as soon as the head presents.” He looked down at his sobbing patient. “We did it, Miz Sidney. Just a couple more contractions, and we’ll be done here.”

“Yess.” The voice hissed on another contraction.

“The head. I can see it.” Elizabeth touched the crown with a tender finger. On the next pain the baby slipped right into her hands, squalling as soon as she felt the air. “She was tired of being cooped up like that,” Elizabeth murmured.
Oh, dear God, look what you’ve done here.A beautiful baby girl
. Elizabeth held up the squirming baby for the doctor to see.

“Good. Lay her here on her mother’s belly so the two of them can finally get acquainted face-to-face.”

Elizabeth did as told, blinking back her tears so she could see better. With the baby in place she picked up a corner of her apron and wiped her eyes. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful in your whole life?”

“And it never changes. Birthing a baby is about the most wonderful act of worship I know of.”

The woman in the bed cupped her daughter’s head with a hand full of love. “Thank you.”

“You are most welcome.” Dr. Gaskin cut and tied the cord, then turned to his helper. “Let’s get back to work. You clean up the baby, and I’ll take care of the rest here.”

Elizabeth washed the baby, gently wiping her eyes and nose with a soft cloth. When she’d dried the red little body, she pinned a folded diaper in place and wrapped the baby in a cotton blanket before laying her in the crook of her mother’s arm. Then she wiped the mother’s face and brushed the soaked hair back from her forehead. After sliding a fresh sheet under Mrs. Sidney, she stood and looked down at the two, both now sleeping soundly.

“That was close,” Dr. Gaskin said. “Might not have had this happy picture if it hadn’t been for you.”

Elizabeth stared down at her hands. Yes, this was what they were designed for. She looked up at the doctor. “I
must
get into medical school. But what if I’m not accepted?”

CHAPTER FIVE

Blessing, North Dakot

Plowing until past dark left precious little time for schoolwork, let alone for writing.

Thorliff dragged his tired body up the stairs to the room he and Andrew shared and flung himself across the bed. While the full moon was beautiful, it only meant longer hours behind the teams.

“Another one of the baby pigs died.” Andrew sat on the bed to unlace his boots.

“Sorry.”

“Pa says that’s just the way of pigs. That’s why they have so many, but there must be ways to keep them from being stepped and laid on. That dumb sow.”