Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
“Whoa!” Adam angled the plow to a halt, wiped a sleeve across his damp forehead and turned toward the house. He listened intently, not altogether certain what he’d heard. There. There it was again—another cry from the upstairs window.
Dropping the reins, he bolted for the back door. He nearly wrenched it from its hinges as he threw it open and ran through the kitchen toward the staircase. Two at a time he took them, until he reached the top, crossed the hall and skidded to a halt at Mary’s open door.
She was sitting up on the bed, panting and screaming Jacob’s name while Madeline leaned over her, trying to calm her. “Everything’s going to be all right, Mary. I’m right here.”
Penelope came running up the stairs. “There you are, Papa! I tried to find you!”
Adam turned to her. “Go out to the south field and fetch Jacob. Tell him that Mary’s time has come, but first go and get Mrs. Dalton.”
Panic flitted through Penelope’s wide eyes. “She’s not here! She’s gone to the market!”
Adam glanced at Madeline again, who was trying to convince Mary to lie back against the pillows. “Find George, then,” Adam said. “Tell him to saddle a horse and fetch Dr. Fowler.”
“I will!” Penelope hurried down the stairs.
Another terrorized scream from Mary shook Adam to the core and summoned hot, agonizing memories of his wife’s last delivery.
Jane’s screams had sounded the same. For the rest of his days, Adam would never forget the desperation in her voice just before Penelope had come into the world—the tears and the sobs and the pleading to God for mercy.
He was certain she had known she was dying, and from his seat in the hall outside the closed door he could do nothing to save her.
The guilt afterward had been excruciating, for how many times over the years had he wished for things to be different with Jane? How often, when she was ranting and smashing things, had he wondered what life would be like if she were not there?
Adam thrust those thoughts away and said a quick prayer for Mary. His children’s happiness meant everything to him, and he did not want Jacob’s young wife to be taken from them now, when she and Jacob were so deeply in love and eager for the future.
Madeline pulled the quilt back and tossed it into the corner of the room.
“What can I do?” Adam asked.
Fear showed itself in her eyes, but her voice was calm. “Is there no one here? Just us?”
“For the moment,” he replied. “Penelope has gone to fetch Jacob, and George will ride for the doctor.”
Adam watched Madeline contemplate the situation, as if she were playing it through in her mind and anticipating what she must do.
A feeling of powerlessness moved through him. All he could do was trust her with Mary’s life.
“Have you done this before?”
Madeline met his gaze squarely. “Yes. Twice in Yorkshire, and the midwife explained everything to me along the way. We will get along fine, Adam. Breathe, Mary. That’s it. In and out.”
He stood in the doorway, watching Madeline move around Mary, talking to her and telling her what to do, her voice always composed and reassuring.
“Adam, would you fetch me hot water and towels, please?” She sounded wholly in control, and her confidence eased the tight knot that had formed in his gut. “Then you can leave us alone.”
With her eyes, she told him not to worry.
He left the room to do as she asked, and thanked the good Lord for sending Madeline to them when He had.
* * *
Jacob pounded a fist against the door frame in the hall. “How much longer must this agony last?”
Mary screamed again, her cries muffled behind the closed door, but no less disquieting for Adam or Jacob, who waited restlessly outside.
Adam stopped pacing to reassure Jacob again. “This is normal, son, especially for the first child. I remember the night George was born. It seemed to take a week, but it was only six hours.”
“Six hours! It’s been only three so far!”
Adam strove to maintain a confidence he did not feel, not when Mary was screaming so much louder now.
Where was the damn doctor? George hadn’t been able to find him.
“I know it’s difficult,” Adam said, “but you must be patient. All we can do is wait and pray. Perhaps you’d be better off outside, where you can’t hear what’s happening.”
“No,” Jacob replied. “If she must endure this, then so must I.”
Jacob collapsed onto the chair in the hall and buried his face in his hands. He shook almost violently with silent, pain-racked sobs.
The sight of his son weeping so inconsolably was like a knife in Adam’s chest, twisting with excruciating exactness, for his children were his life. His love for them was greater than anything he could ever have expected or comprehended.
Another cry came from the room. This time—a baby’s cry.
Jacob’s tear-filled eyes lifted. “Did you hear that?”
Before Adam could form a reply, the door creaked open and Madeline walked out. Her hair was damp with perspiration around her forehead, her face pale. She wiped her hands on a bloody cloth.
Jacob practically leaped out of his chair. He took one look at the smear of blood on Madeline’s apron and teetered, as if he were about to faint. Adam grabbed onto Jacob’s arm to steady him.
Madeline smiled. “Congratulations, Jacob. You have a daughter.”
The air sailed out of Adam’s lungs. Surely, the weight of the whole world had just lifted from his shoulders.
Jacob grabbed hold of Madeline’s shoulders. “Is Mary all right?”
“You can ask her yourself.” Not even the sun could compete with the purity and brilliance of Madeline’s smile as she delivered this welcome news to Adam’s son.
Jacob hastened into the room, leaving Adam and Madeline alone in the corridor. They both stood in silence, staring at each other, recovering from the anxiety they had both been harnessing for the past three hours.
Adam gestured toward the chair. “Won’t you please sit down? You look in need of a rest.”
“Thank you.”
An immense swell of tenderness and gratitude rose up within Adam. Madeline had been a great champion today. She had kept Mary safe and brought a beautiful new baby into the world. She had made Jacob a happy man, and that made Adam happy, too. More than happy.
“No, I must thank you,” he said. “What would we have done if you had not been with us today?”
She made light of his compliment. “Everything went smoothly. Mary’s built for childbearing. You’ll have a whole house full of grandchildren before you know it.”
Adam gazed at the young woman sitting across the hall from him, her hair tousled and toppling from its bun, her cheeks flushed from the stress of the morning.
How was it possible that she could be a mere four years older than his stepson, Jacob, yet she seemed a whole lifetime older in maturity and experience?
“Blimey,” he stammered, trying to sound full of humor, when he was not at all accustomed to trying so hard to sound anything at all. “The years have caught up with me. I’m an aging grandfather.”
Her eyes shone with self-assurance again, and she smiled at him. “That is not how I see you, Adam. I see a robust and healthy man in the prime of life, and I see what lies ahead, not what has already gone by.”
He could not resist probing further. “And what do you think lies ahead?”
She thought carefully before she spoke. “New beginnings, great happiness and love.”
“Do you mean Diana?” he asked quickly. Too quickly.
A sensation of unease prickled through him. What kind of question was that? Of course she meant Diana.
After a long pause, Madeline simply smiled and stood. “I should go and see if Mary needs anything.”
Adam cleared his throat. He felt flustered and unsure what to say next. “Of course, you must go.” There was that gruff voice again. “I’ll go and spread the good news.”
He made a move to leave, but Madeline caught his arm. “Please, Adam, come first and see your granddaughter.”
A warm, familial pride moved through him. Madeline was right of course. He should be among the first to see the babe. This was all so new to him. Thank God sensible Madeline was there to guide him through this.
He followed her into the room, where Jacob stood in front of the large window, holding his firstborn child in his arms. Dazzling sunshine lit up Jacob’s fair features—so much like his mother’s—and reflected off the tears of joy on his cheeks.
Adam felt his own eyes cloud with tears. It was an extraordinary moment he would never forget.
Jacob turned to show off the babe in his arms. Adam moved softly toward them.
Only the infant’s tiny face was visible from beneath the white swaddling blanket—her beautiful, tiny red face.
She made quiet, little fussing sounds and pursed her puffy lips.
Adam touched his knuckle to her fat cheek and felt love move through him in a powerful, potent rush.
“Look, Papa,” Jacob said. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
“She is a treasure, Jacob.” Adam’s voice shook.
Mary watched from the bed, smiling. Madeline moved toward her and wiped a cool, damp cloth over her forehead and face.
“Congratulations, Mary,” Adam said, bending to kiss his daughter-in-law on the cheek. “You did well.”
A single tear spilled from her eyes. “I couldn’t have done anything without Madeline. She was so encouraging and knew exactly what to do. I would have been terrified if she had not been here to tell me that everything was going to be all right.”
Adam glanced over his shoulder at Madeline, who had moved to the other side of the room. She lowered her eyes at Mary’s compliment, turned her back to him and wrung the cloth out in the basin.
Adam’s heart trembled with endless gratitude. He could not let the moment pass without letting Madeline know exactly how much he appreciated what she had done for them today. He crossed the room and took her by the arm, gently urging her to face him.
“I will never forget this, Madeline. Thank you.” Then he laid a warm, light kiss on her cheek.