Chapter 43 #2
“Dear God,” she prayed, unable to even utter the thanks that came next due to her breathless sobs. The only other word she managed was, “Daniel.”
***
It took ten minutes to stop crying and wash her red face, her smile bursting from behind the washcloth every time she looked in the washstand mirror.
In that short time, Ellie Nugent had arrived, settled into a rocking chair, and managed to extract the baby from Julia’s protective hold.
After several coaxing attempts, the exhausted child latched on her breast. The baby had a weak suck and a reluctant swallow, but she was feeding.
Julia never took her eyes away from the baby’s twitching cheek, hovering as she sat in a chair pushed up next to Ellie. Nora could almost see the ache of her empty arms and the longing to regain the helpless bundle.
She watched the commonplace miracle of new life, only half-aware of the conversation around her.
She was counting the hours until she could tell Daniel, unsure she’d survive the wait.
Mrs. Phipps would be back from her shopping trip soon.
At least she could relieve the bursting happiness by telling her.
Nora even caught Aunt dabbing the corner of her handkerchief to her eye. Now they both stood in silence in the corner of the room, Nora rubbing her curved belly over and over.
Aunt sniffed beside her, shifting awkwardly. “You must think me neglectful.”
Nora drew her eyebrows together. The infant’s condition was hardly Aunt Wilcox’s fault. “Whyever—”
But Aunt continued, “I haven’t paid your bill.”
“Bill?” Nora laughed as she caressed her stomach again. “What bill?”
Aunt frowned. “For attending me in my sickness.”
Nora dropped her hand in surprise. “I would never charge you, Aunt.”
“I thought as much,” the woman concurred with a curt nod. “Which is why I have planned to show my gratitude in another way.”
“Another way?”
Several yards away, the baby choked on the rich rush of milk, coughing and releasing the breast. Mrs. Nugent wiped up the dribble of milk with her skirt and started again with coaxing words. Aunt diverted her eyes, most likely uncomfortable with the rough brown nipple in plain view.
“An ongoing contribution to your hospital. You are doing valuable work.” Aunt’s hand smoothed the cuffs of her sleeves.
“Enough to hire the women you’ve trained.
Mrs. Franklin is an admirable midwife. Heaven knows they must all need steady employment.
And we need them.” Her clipped words couldn’t hide the emotion.
Nora turned away from the sight of Ellie wiggling the baby’s chin to convince her to suck harder. “I agree. But you already give so much to your other causes.”
“You made me your cause.” Aunt Wilcox exhaled and looked away, the words costing her. “I will make you mine.”
Nora blinked, unsure whether to protest again or accept and give thanks. As she deliberated, she pressed her hands to her stomach, bolstering her courage. Best to grab the iron when hot.
“Did you hear that, Ruth?” she called.
Ruth turned to her, blank-faced.
“As of this moment, Aunt Wilcox is patron of this hospital. She’s going to help fund it.”
No one moved. Mrs. Phipps frowned so deeply with confusion that Nora hurried on before Aunt grew insulted. “I told you about the conversation we had when we were convalescing and now…” Her voice dwindled.
Why didn’t anyone say something congratulatory? Nora wished she was close enough to covertly give one of them a pinch.
Ever polite, Julia found her composure first with a dazed, “Oh.”
Beside her, Aunt’s eyes narrowed to slits.
“That’s wonderful,” Julia said, shaking herself from the shock. “Mrs. Wilcox, how generous of you.” At last, she remembered to smile, and the spell binding the others into stunned statues broke as she beamed.
“I can hardly believe it,” Mrs. Phipps fumbled, attempting to turn it into a compliment by elevating the last syllable.
Nora laughed at their astonished faces. It seemed miracles came in threes: her child, this orphan, and now Aunt’s funding. But why stop there?
“Ruth, as founder of this hospital, I’d like to offer you the paid position of head nurse and midwife.”
Mrs. Phipps’s hand flew to her open mouth.
Julia threw her arms around Ruth before the woman managed to take a breath. Her reticent face rippled with minute signs of disbelief and joy.
“Well,” Nora prodded with a grin. “Do you accept?”
Ruth nodded several times, blinking fiercely. “Gladly,” she said, her voice unsteady.
Nora admired her control. She embodied Horace’s maxim to never let yourself be caught off guard. “I’ll do it gladly,” Ruth answered.
A harsh throat-clearing silenced them all. “Very well, but will that baby live?” Aunt’s voice sharpened to her usual briskness.
Julia’s head jerked to the little one, her celebration cut short as her blue eyes swelled with distress.
Across the small room, Ellie pretended not to hear as she increased the volume of her humming and the vigor of her rocking.
As if in answer, the baby girl lifted one weak arm and rested it on Ellie’s warm breast.
“I like to bet on long odds.” Nora touched her stomach again. “She looks like a fighter to me.”
***
Nora adjusted the blanket over her lap one more time, deciding the best position for her arm to appear casual, unrehearsed. She must tame her smile…
Daniel had promised to be gone no more than three hours, and it was over two and a half now. Her ears strained so hard for the sound of his voice or footsteps that her temples began to twinge.
Thumbing a book, she pretended to review tropical plants of the equatorial regions until at last the door budged. She sucked in her cheeks, schooling her lips, her heart jumping sideways in her chest.
Daniel stepped in slowly, haggard and burdened. Had he looked that way this morning?
His forehead wrinkled. “Your color is better.”
No doubt from her happy flush. She needed to calm herself or she’d ruin the moment.
“Are you warm?” He approached, his hands still damp from washing, and felt her cheek.
“No.” She patted the empty spot beside her. He’d already changed clothes, as he always did after cholera visits, and she wanted to press her face against his clean, soft waistcoat. “I just missed you.”
“I missed you as well.” With a quiet groan, he lowered himself onto the worn cushions, his tense muscles loosening as he collected her closer. He released a long breath.
For once she didn’t want to ask about his visits—the protocols or treatments, who lived or didn’t.
“You will not believe who came to clinic today,” she began.
His eyebrows lifted.
She plunged into the entire account of Aunt and the orphan in the carpet bag. It took a quarter hour to dole out the details and satisfy his questions. She gestured and laughed, glad for the excuse to vent some of her pent-up excitement.
“You have money for your hospital and a salaried staff.” Daniel grinned in pride and shook his head. “Amazing. But pleasing my aunt—that’s a feat for the history books.”
She nestled her head into his neck, burrowing in as if she never intended to leave, and inhaled the familiar smell of soap and medicants. Her lips found the spot against his throat where his pulse fluttered.
She’d not gotten far enough in her imagination to rehearse the actual words—the best way to tell him.
Nor did she need to know yet, because his mouth found hers, his lips tasting of relief.
He kissed her until she understood. He’d held her pain for so many days, wishing for the hour her smile would reappear. Fearing it never would.
Releasing his lips, she drew back several inches.
“Something else happened today.” She didn’t muster enough volume, and the words cracked.
Instead of speech, she took his hand and guided it to her waist, watching him as she placed it below her belly button, wishing her skirt wasn’t so thick so he could reach her bare skin.
He froze. She saw him trying not to guess, waiting for her next words.
“I felt it,” she whispered.
His eyes widened, flexed at the corners as if in pain. She knew he couldn’t let himself believe until…
“More than once,” she reassured. “I’m certain. Our baby’s alive.”
The breath fell out of him as he closed his eyes.
She thought she’d be too giddy to get through the announcement, but now she found her throat too closed and her eyes too hot. The misery that sloughed from his face fell into her stroking hands. She’d had no idea how much it hurt him.
“Alive,” he breathed, his cautious hands finding her waist, as if frightened to disturb the fragile life.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
The last words she expected.
Before she could ask, he pressed on. “For every minute we were at odds. For pushing against each other instead of together.”
She inhaled, unsure how to best wipe away the debris of the past months. “I am, too. But it’s done now.” Her forehead creased. “Isn’t it? You’re not angry if I practice—”
He kissed her right where a worried line always burrowed between her eyebrows. “It is. Never again.”
He increased the pressure of his fingers against her stomach, sounding the depths for some movement. “What does it feel like?” he asked.
Nora had never noticed how bright the gold rings in his eyes could shine when he was happy.
She laid her hand over his. “A grasshopper.”