Chapter 25
Red winced as Cassie sobbed while she fumbled with the tiny buttons that ran in a row down the front of her nightgown, most of the way to her waist.
He caught both of her hands in one of his. “Stop, Cassie. Don’t cry. Don’t be upset. Please, I didn’t mean to make you cry, Cass, honey. Please.”
His crooning comfort took a while to penetrate the maelstrom raging out of her. He prayed silently for patience, afraid praying aloud would make her cry again. Then he said softly, “You’re just tired. You didn’t hurt the baby. You’re fine. The baby’s fine.”
Slowly, the latest outburst of tears eased, and Red, thinking feeding the baby was what had started all of this, propped a folded blanket behind Cassie’s shoulders and adjusted it until she was nearly sitting upright.
He’d shared such total intimacy with Cassie today that he hoped she wouldn’t demand modesty between them.
But Cassie wasn’t exactly reasonable right now.
He hesitated for a split second before he slipped the buttons of her gown free and pushed the fabric aside.
Then he laid the still-uncovered baby against Cassie’s bare skin until the little girl’s face pressed against Cassie’s breast.
Cassie didn’t protest, but she was still so upset, he wasn’t sure her acceptance of his touch meant anything.
He moved Cassie’s arms until she held the baby in her own arms. The first time she’d completely supported their little girl.
The baby was cuddled securely against her.
With a move so sure it was startling, the baby turned its head toward the warmth, latched on, and began nursing vigorously.
Cassie jumped, and thank goodness, she had quit crying.
“Look at the little sweetheart go,” Red said with awe. “She knows exactly what to do.”
Cassie nodded, but she didn’t take her eyes off her baby girl. “She knows how to feed herself. It’s impossible. And she knew how to grab your finger.”
With aching care, Cassie touched her baby’s hand, and the petite hand grabbed hold just as it had with Red. Cassie started crying again.
Red groaned softly, then kissed Cassie’s tear-streaked cheeks and held her face cradled in his hands. He lifted Cassie’s hand with the baby still clinging to her index finger and kissed both hands together.
Red murmured a prayer against their interwoven fingers for God to make him good enough to be a father and husband.
He asked for patience and wisdom and unshakable faith, and he added silently a request for God to make Cassie stop crying because it was breaking his heart.
He also thanked God Seth had warned him about the emotional upheaval a woman goes through during and after the birth of a baby.
Cassie spent the next hour focused totally on her perfect little girl while Red straightened the room, and, lifting Cassie and the baby from one side of the bed to the other, put on clean sheets.
Red brought in warm water and a soft cloth and gave the baby a bath as it lay in Cassie’s warm arms. Cassie protested that the room was too cold, but Red told her to keep the baby close to her and she’d stay warm enough.
He carefully exposed one small part of the baby at a time, cleaned it gently, and then covered her again.
He even bathed the baby’s head while she was still nursing and fumbled around until he’d put on his first diaper.
It was Red’s idea to switch the baby to the other breast. He said it was so he could more easily wash her other side, but Cassie said something about feeding her baby on only one side and not thinking to change to the other, and she started crying again.
Red kept up a sweet, meaningless, one-sided conversation as he saw to it that Cassie was adequately bathed.
She squirmed with embarrassment, but considering the details of birthing a baby, she allowed it.
Red even scooted her forward a bit and slid in behind her, unbraiding her hair and combing it.
He spent long minutes coaxing the snarls out, intent on sparing her one more instant of pain.
When it was finally a smooth, silken mass in his hands, he tried to braid it, but he made a botched job of it, so he draped it over Cassie’s shoulder and said, “I’ll hold the little tyke.
You braid.” Cassie’s hair hung down until it was a curtain around the feasting baby.
Red circled his arms around Cassie and held the baby to nurse while she did her hair with trembling hands.
Finally, the room was neat. The baby and Cassie were tidy and tucked in warm. The baby fell asleep in the midst of her energetic suckling.
Red eased the baby out of Cassie’s grasp, smiling at her reluctance to let go. He had pulled the cradle up to the side of the bed, but before he could lay her down, Cassie said, “Muriel said to hold her against your shoulder and burp her before you lay her down.”
Red shifted the baby around, asking just how to do it.
The babe slept limply against his shoulder as he patted her back, and finally, she burped to suit Cassie.
Then Red laid the baby on her stomach in the crib.
The baby curled her knees under her belly until her bottom stuck up in the air.
Red covered her with Cassie’s thickly knitted coverlet.
Cassie groaned as she rolled onto her side to stare at the baby as it slept.
Red sat on the bed beside her. He rested one hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right, Cass, honey?”
Cassie glanced at him. “I’m fine, Red. Wonderful. Just tired. Can you believe how beautiful she is?”
The two of them looked at the little miracle that had been added to their lives that day. Red reached through the wooden slats to rub the back of a fist that was curled up near the baby’s face. “What are we going to name her?”
Cassie seemed sure about one thing. “I want her name to be Dawson. We haven’t talked about it, and I suppose she could be named Griffin, but I want her to be ours, Red. Both of ours. You don’t mind, do you?”
Red had thought about it, and he wanted the babe to carry his name so badly that he hurt.
But he thought Cassie would want to give this honor to Griff.
Now, at her simple request, tears burned in the back of his eyes.
“I would be proud for her to carry my name, and it would be good for her to share the name we have.” The two of them nodded, in complete accord.
“What about a first name? Do you want her called for your ma? Or if there was someone in Griff’s family who?—”
“I’ve pictured this baby being a girl from the first. Of course, I couldn’t really know, but it was just a fancy that took me.
I’ve imagined a girl, and I’ve always thought of her as part of these mountains.
This new land. I want her to have a name as strong as the land.
I want her to be strong, Red. Stronger than I am. ”
Red looked at his little daughter, enchanted by the little rosebud mouth that even now suckled as if she dreamed of nourishment. He smiled at Cassie. “It’s hard to see her, so delicate and pretty, and think of a strong name for her.”
“I’ve heard Susannah means ‘courage.’ My mother told me about an ancient story where Susannah was a woman who defended herself courageously. I’d like a daughter who had courage, Red.”
“‘Susannah’ is beautiful. We’ll call her Susannah Cassandra Dawson,” Red said firmly.
“Not Cassandra,” Cassie protested. “The poor thing will have a whole alphabet to learn with a name that long.”
Given that pink tinge in her cheeks that looked like pleasure, he brushed aside her objection. “You get ‘Susannah.’ I should get to pick the middle name.”
“You get ‘Dawson,’” Cassie said pertly.
“I think this little one is goin’ to be as beautiful as her mama, which doesn’t seem possible. She’s goin’ to be smart as a whip, so she can learn all the letters there are with no trouble, and she’ll be as sweet as my Cass-honey ever can be. I’d like her to share your name.”
“Red…” Cassie breathed his name on a sigh. “I’m not sweet.”
Tears began to trickle from Cassie’s eyes. She was lying on her side with both hands tucked under her head, watching the baby, so tears pooled in the corner of her right eye and streaked out of the corner of her left eye to drip on the bed.
Red wanted to sigh, but he contained it because he didn’t want to sound impatient. “Cassie, you’re about the sweetest li’l thing I’ve ever seen. I tell you all the time to holler at me and call me a polecat, but you just don’t have an ounce of mean in you anywhere.”
“Oh yes, I do, Red. I…I don’t think it’s fair of you to go on thinking I’m a nice person when I’m not.
I have so much anger churning around inside me sometimes that, even if I don’t say so out loud, I know God judges me for a sinner.
The things I want to say sometimes…” Cassie shook her head and swiped at her tears.
“The stupid, childish tantrums I want to throw. No, I think we can do better than to hang my name on the innocent baby.”
Red rubbed the side of his jaw where Cassie had given him a stiff right cross during one labor pain.
She’d have nailed him several times if he hadn’t ducked.
He’d bet his whole ranch she didn’t remember doing it, and he had a good idea about exactly what boiled inside her, because he thought he’d heard every word of it the last twenty hours while she delivered the baby.
“If you think you’re confessing a sin to me, you’re wrong.
I couldn’t be happier to hear you’ve got strong feelings about things.
I’ve told you before I want to know what you’re thinking. ”
“No, you don’t.” She shook her head frantically. “Trust me, Red. You wouldn’t like the person I am inside.”