Wild Rose

The scream that split the air wasn't quite human, and Jamie rushed to Rose's side, grasping her hand and smoothing back her sweaty hair.

Her voice was weak and raspy, and she reached a trembling hand out to clutch her husband's shirt, pulling down fiercely on the fabric so that she wouldn't have to speak in tones above a whisper.

"Name him for my father if it's a boy, and after your mother if it's a girl…tell the baby about me…OWWWWW!" the gentle words disappeared into another ear splitting scream.

Jonathan Monroe, who upon request had traveled back to Rock Creek just over a year short of leaving it to deliver Rose's first child, coaxed her through the next pain and then relaxed when she lay back on the pillow, flushed and panting.

"I love you Jamie," she whispered pitifully, groping for his hand.

Jamie's face drained of color as he looked first to Lou's ashen face, then at the doctor that had brought him into the world.

Jonathan surprised them all by chuckling, "Don't worry, Jamie. They all think they are going to die about this time. She's doing well."

"How would you know? You're not doing anything to help me but sitting there! If you tell me to push one more time, I swear to the almighty God I'm going to kick you in the head!" Rose growled, her knuckles going white on the bed sheet as she writhed and screamed at another pain. They were close now. She knew they either had to stop, or she had to die.

"Oh Rose, I'm sorry, I wish it could be me," Jamie murmured soothingly, touching her cheek.

She jerked away from his hands, "I wish it could be you too! This is all your fault! I-I am never going to bed with you again!"

Lou laughed, finding herself glad she'd been unconscious for the worst part of her pregnancy. Even given the life threatening illness that had set upon her afterwards, she thought she might prefer that over Rose's agony now. Still, she doubted a red blooded woman like Rose would stick to her word never to share her bed with her husband again.

Rachel let herself into the room slowly with a fresh pot of boiling water and a stack of blankets.

"Welcome! Welcome to the show! Is there anyone else who would like to come see me here like a beached whale with my legs in the air?" Rose snapped, feeling out of her mind with pain so much that the behavior she was displaying seemed appropriate, "Twenty-seven hours I've been here! Let me die!"

Just as quickly as she'd been screaming, she was suddenly crying, and holding hard to Jamie, "Oh Jamie, I'm so sorry. I love you! I didn't mean any of it!"

Jamie looked down at her with something between a smile and a grimace as another pain rocked her and she clamped with incredible strength for someone who'd been in labor for so long onto his arm. He knew he'd have bruises, and knowing her pain was many times greater wasn't helping for the moment.

Jonathan stood up and nodded, "Okay Rose, we're getting close! You're gonna need to push when I tell you too, okay? Not before. You're doing great, sweetheart. In just one second you'll be holding your new baby."

Rose sobbed when she felt that her lower body was being separated from the rest of her, and trembled with restraint of not pushing, despite the natural instinct that made her desperate to.

"Okay, Rose, now!"

Rose screamed until her throat was hoarse and continued to push, grasping onto Jamie, sure she'd die any moment.

And then, another scream filled the air. A scream from tiny, but obviously healthy lungs.

Silence prevailed among the adults in the room as the infant wailed, possibly, Rose thought, the most precious sound in all the world.

"It's a girl," Jonathan announced with a smile, "And a healthy one at that."

Jamie had long ago decided that the most tender moment in his life had occurred on his wedding night, but he dispelled that notion when a few minutes later, a tiny bundle was placed into his arms.

There was no stopping the tears in his eyes at that point, nor did he try as he looked at his daughter. She was incredibly red, slightly misshapen, and not altogether happy about being born from the looks of things.

With a smile and a peek at her granddaughter, Lou motioned everyone out of the room for a few minutes. A parade could have marched through the bedroom and Jamie would have not noticed, so intent was he on his child.

Jamie brought a finger up to touch the tiny flailing hand, and his eyes opened wide in surprise when minute fingers curled around his with surprising force. He looked at the tiny little nail beds, perfectly formed. Life had never seemed so fragile.

"Hello," he said calmly, not sure what else he should do in way of introducing himself, "I'm your Daddy."

Rose watched the scene with a peaceful smile, the demons that gripped her moments ago gone with the pain. The bundle was so small in Jamie's large arms, and yet, Rose had little doubt who the boss was already.

Jamie walked to her and sat on the bed, reluctantly laying the infant in Rose's arms. Her tears spilled rapidly as she shook her head, "My God, Jamie. We made her. She's ours."

Jamie leaned over and kissed Rose gently on the lips, "Yes we did. And I have to thank you for her. I hope you don't take exception to this, but she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Rose laughed and sniffed, "How can I compete with this? She's perfect, isn't she?" She looked over her daughter carefully, wanting to know every detail, "Did you see her eyes?" Rose asked him finally, "They are blue, just like yours."

"But she's got your mouth…and your nose. Just smaller," Jamie said with his gift for the obvious."

Rose nodded and giggled slightly, giddy with the weariness and the joy.

"What should we call her?" Jamie asked.

"Well, Louise must be part of it," Rose said firmly.

Jamie nodded in agreement. "What about your mother? What was her name?"

Rose's eyes turned down and she turned inward on her thoughts. Her own mother had never cared for her, but in her remarkable vision about her father he'd told her of a woman that was full and life and dreams. Would she feel differently about her own child if Jamie wasn't by her side now? She shook her head. She couldn't imagine not loving this child, with or without Jamie there. But still, she could appreciate finally the struggle her mother had been through to do it alone, although it had been her choice.

"Autumn," Rose finally said softly, "Her name was Autumn like mine."

"Autumn Louise McCloud," Jamie murmured, "And we can call her Autumn."

Rose nodded in agreement, sighing, "Oh Jamie, let's have lots more babies."

Jamie laughed, "This coming from the woman who declared she'd never share my bed again just moments ago? I don't know if I can survive another birthing Rose!"

Rose smiled sheepishly, and looked at him playfully, "Is that a no?"

Jamie shook his head, "I don't think I could ever deny you what you wished."

Rose reached out to stroke his face and smiled, "And I can never deny you."

For a moment they sat, until the baby began squalling, and Rose realized she was hungry.

Jamie thought his heart would explode in his chest as he watched Rose nurse the baby with fascination. He'd never seen anything so peaceful and natural in all his life. Rose's face was full of wonder and love too as the baby finally fell asleep at her breast. She covered herself back up, and Jamie eagerly held the baby, still sitting at her side.

"Where in the world did this black hair come from? Wonder if she'll keep it?"

"My mother had black hair," a gentle voice at the door said softly.

"So did mine," another added.

Jamie and Rose looked to see Lou and Kid standing shyly in the doorway.

"Come meet Autumn Louise," Rose invited them with a warm smile, and they needed no further incentive. Lou's eyes were soft and loving as she looked at the child with her name.

"I think Jimmy's mother had dark hair too. I remember seeing a tiny picture of her once at Cylinda's house," Kid said softly as he took his granddaughter into his arms.

"She's going to be a beauty," Lou said with a smile, "What color are her eyes?"

"Blue. Like Kid's, and Jamie's," Rose smiled, "Maybe a little darker. Almost violet, but I imagine they'll change a little."

"Jamie's never did," Lou responded and shook her head. The world and time moved too fast. She looked at Kid as he bent over the baby, talking nonsense. It seemed only hours ago she'd opened her eyes and seen Jamie for the very first time, in Kid's arms as he looked out the window at the plantation grounds. As Kid slipped the baby into her own arms, she might have been holding Jamie, Jamie who was now well over six feet tall, again.

Teaspoon, Rachel, Cody, Buck, Patrick, and Seth all crept into the room to have a peak at the newborn. Rose watched them all with heavy lids and Jamie looked at the dark circles under her eyes and marveled at the pain she'd so quickly forgotten after giving him his daughter.

Lou was marveling too as she looked around her. Four generations of them were within one room. Granted along the way some of them had been lost, and had been reduced to memories held within the vaults of the heart. Today, they were found again, shining out now from an infant's pure blue eyes. Noah, Ike, Jimmy, Carlos…all of them lived in her.

Teaspoon's generation had carved out the West, built and shaped it into a land of opportunity and promise. Her own generation had bridged gaps between East and West, but also opened gaps between North and South. Rose and Jamie's generation was still making its mark, expanding, building, progressing with amazing speed. All of them had done it with the aid of an unbreakable force called love that had spanned the years, that would outlive time itself. A bond so strong that it sang within their bodies and coursed in their veins, as much a part of them as life's blood that kept them alive.

What would the fourth generation bring? What untold stories, what loves, what legacy rested behind Autumn Louise McCloud's closed eyelids?

The possibilities were endless.

And close by, on a wind swept bluff with a spectacular view of the now rich grass that rolled all the way up to the majestic Rocky Mountains stood five simple, solitary crosses. Even a prairie fire hadn't dared to disturb their sanctity. Starkly outlined against a lavender sky, they stood guard. They watched over both the ranch where the people who had lovingly erected them went about their lives and the horizon, where day after day was lost to the night, bringing them all closer to reuniting in the next world.

It was at the foot of one of these five crosses, even as the days grew shorter and the nights grew colder, that a tiny flower bravely pushed through the soil and stood proudly at the base of the monument, enjoying the shelter it offered from strong west winds.

James Butler Hickok were the words carved in the cross, and wild was the white rose that grew there eternally.

Copyright 1998-99-This work is not to be reproduced without the permission of the author

The Way Station
Campfire Tales

Email: gliterin@bellsouth.net