Chapter 28 #2
Worse yet, had strong, decent men wanted her, but the missing part of her needed a weak man who could be bullied?
Her horses knew the way home, and it was a good thing. The loaded wagon rattled along as tears blinded her. Her head ached with the shame. Her whole body ached as the tears flowed and sobs wracked her.
She’d have never cried like this in front of her girls.
And she’d have never let Anthony see her.
Pride wouldn’t allow it. But she wasn’t crying over him.
He was lower than a snake’s belly, and he had no power to hurt her feelings.
She cried over her own stupidity. She cried over what was broken in her to have married so poorly over and over again.
She’d been on the trail nearly two hours, wallowing in her grief, when she realized the ache that seemed to be twisting her body wasn’t coming from disappointment in herself.
It was the baby.
The shock of realizing her laboring had started brought Belle out of the self-pity. She rested her hand on her stomach. It was early yet. She’d have time to get home.
What would become of her if she gave birth alone in the wild country?
It was a three-hour ride home on a fast horse.
She’d be more like six hours driving the wagon.
She’d left long before first light to get this trip done in one day.
It was closer to ride back to Divide, but not by much.
She had to go home. Her girls needed her.
And she needed her girls. Lindsay had helped bring Sarah when Lindsay was only five years old.
Panic nearly took hold. She considered unhitching the wagon and riding one of the horses, but that suited no purpose.
She had about three hours to get home, and that was long enough.
Why, the baby wouldn’t come much before morning if things went as usual.
She slapped the reins and made the team step up their pace.
With the heavily laden wagon, they couldn’t do much better than they were now.
It was a long time before the pangs came again. But they came. Belle prayed for her little unborn daughter, whispered that God would keep them both safe.
The cool spring air gusted around her, and the horses kept up their fast walk, the clomp of hoofbeats echoing in the sunset.
The three hours she had estimated shrunk to two.
The contractions kept coming, a bit closer each time.
Up ahead lay the long, treacherous curve of the trail climbing up into the gap that led home.
In another hour, she’d make it. Not home, but through that gap, on her own land.
That was home enough for her. She just might unhitch the wagon at that point, if the pangs hadn’t gotten too hard.
As she struggled to move her horses along, she heard something behind her. A rider. She turned back to see Anthony coming at a fast lope. Belle’s spirits lifted to know she wouldn’t be out here alone any longer. Even Anthony would be better than being alone.
As he drew near, she turned. “Anthony. The baby’s coming. Thank goodness you’ve come. I need help.”
Anthony pulled his horse to a walk as he came up beside her. “What can I do?”
“You can just be with me. I’m a long way from home. I’m scared.”
“Belle Tanner Svendson O’Rourke Santoni scared of something? I doubt it.” He kicked his horse and picked up speed.
“Wait!”
Anthony turned to glare at her, as if she’d asked him to help with chores.
“I need you to stay with me. What if the baby comes before—” A pain hit, cutting off her speech.
This one was stronger than the others. She knew her body.
She knew how it felt as the birth came. She still had time, but what if she couldn’t drive the team any longer?
It would be hard to keep going when the time drew near.
She’d need to ride the brake hard all the way down the other side of the gap.
“You’ve never needed me, Belle. Why should you start now?”
Belle couldn’t answer until the pains faded.
“Anthony, I have always needed you. You’re the one who refused to be part of this family.
I could use your help every day.” She thought of how much he could help.
She saw him, sitting straight and strong on his horse.
His back was fine. But they’d been all through that a hundred times. Repeating it wasn’t of any use.
“Oh, you’ve maybe wanted to make me help on your ranch.
You’ve maybe wished for another cowhand you could work like your daughters.
But that’s not need. You don’t need a husband, Belle.
You need a slave. I’ve got too much pride to work as your slave.
” His voice went beyond contempt and anger.
He sounded as if he hated her. His eyes told her that he definitely did.
He kicked his horse and tore off at a gallop.
Yes, he’d always been lazy.
Yes, he’d always been a cheat.
But why would he hate her? Would he really be so cruel as to abandon her in pain on the trail?
“At least send one of the girls!”
Anthony laughed, his voice carrying back to her on the wind. “If I see one of your little slaves, I’ll send her.”
Would he possibly refuse to send help? She’d kept him fed and in spending money for a year now. Belle’s spirit felt crushed as if the pains were at work on her soul. The tears came again, but she didn’t let them fall. She had no energy for them.
She clicked to the horses and pushed them on.
God, please have him send the girls.
Her girls would help her.
Did she really work them too hard? Did she treat them like slaves?
She began slow, constant prayer, stopping only when the agony cut her off from her thoughts.
When she ran out of prayers, she began reciting all of the Bible verses she knew, and they were many.
The Bible was the only book the Tanner family owned.
Why, she’d taught her girls to read using it.
They took turns memorizing verses during their Sunday services.
The pains came faster. She began the slow uphill climb toward the mountain gap. She remembered Seth’s words about divorce. No, never. Surely, Anthony would die soon and save her the shame.
Nearly another hour passed as she made the twisting trip to the crest of the hill. The trip back down would be much faster.
The pains came harder. They hadn’t yet entered that horrible constant stage she knew to expect near the end. She could make it. She could get home.
She had to ride the wagon brake hard all the way down into her valley to keep from overturning on the sharply winding trail. Did she have the strength?
The wagon descended. Belle pulled hard on the wooden brake handle to keep the vehicle from running away and harming the horses.
Her hands threatened to slip off the brake when a pain was upon her.
She went down and down, the trail narrow, snaking.
She clutched the brake. Threw her body across it, hoping her weight would do what her normally strong hand couldn’t.
She made the first turn only a bit too fast. The wagon clattered.
The horses snorted, complaining about the dangerous wagon forcing them forward at a pace that scared them.
She passed several more treacherous turns without incident, but it took all of her strength to keep the buckboard under control.
Nearly a third of the way down, a spasm hit so hard, she nearly collapsed.
She slipped forward. If she fell between the horses and the wagon, the wagon would roll over her and kill her.
She clung to the brake as her body seemed intent on tearing her in half.
Picking up speed as her strength waned, the horses whinnied in fear at the clattering wagon now shoving them at a dangerous pace.
A shout pulled her head up.