by
CamRose
Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program
"Big Valley" are the creations of Four Star/Republic Pictures and
have been used without permission. No
copyright infringement is intended by the author. The ideas expressed in this story are copyrighted to the author.
The young boy played at the foot of his parents’ bed, oblivious to the sound of
the wind outside. His attention was focused instead on the wooden horse that he
held in his hand, the horse that had been painstakingly carved for him by his
father out of a piece of maple. In his mind, he could hear the horse whinny
back to him as he maneuvered it to jump over the obstacle of his mother’s shoe
and around the post of the bed. Hoofs flying, his horse neared the finish line
of his imaginary race, when he heard a gasp from his mother lying in the bed
above him.
Jarrod immediately scrambled to his feet, his small hands cradling his toy, and
approached the bed quietly. “Mama, are you all right?” Before Papa had left, he
had instructed Jarrod to be mindful of his mother and to help her in anyway she
asked. Jarrod carefully put his horse down on the table beside the bed and
leaned in close to his mother, waiting for her to tell him what to do.
Victoria Barkley bit her lip as another contraction came, but this time she was
determined not to make a sound, for she could see the uncertainty in her young
son’s eyes. She held her breath against the pain, long enough for the
contraction to pass, and then reached out to run her hand reassuringly through
Jarrod’s dark hair.
“Sweetheart, see the basin on the table against the wall?” Victoria pointed
past Jarrod; his eyes followed the direction of her extended arm and came to
rest on a large, white bowl. He looked back at his mother and nodded solemnly.
“Please wring out the towel that’s in it, and bring it over to me. I’d like to
wipe my face with it.”
“Yes Mama.” Victoria watched as her four year old son turned towards the table,
his toy temporarily forgotten, and did as he was asked. It was hard for him to
twist the towel, for his hands weren’t very large or strong, but he did the
best he could. When he was finished, he carefully carried the towel back to the
bed and handed it to his mother.
Victoria took the wet towel from Jarrod’s hands. “Thank you, sweetheart.” She
lifted the cloth to her face and pressed it against her forehead, closing her
eyes at the sheer bliss of the coolness against her heated skin. Even though it
was cold outside, the inside of the home was warm, heated by the black iron
stove that Tom had installed two years earlier. In her normal state of health,
the heat would have been welcoming and comfortable, but tonight, Victoria felt
as if she were in the center of an inferno.
I must have a temperature, she thought to herself, as she placed one
hand against her forehead. How else to explain the sweat that seemed to ooze
from her skin? She folded the towel over and placed it back against her face,
greedy to feel the coolness again.
She had Jarrod wet the towel two more times before she felt the relief she
sought. Then, sighing, she directed her son to return the cloth to the bowl,
and come back to the bed.
“Sweetheart, I want you up on the bed with me, but Mama can’t lift you. Can you
climb up here by yourself, without help?” She patted her hand on the bed to
show him where she wanted him.
Blue eyes shining, Jarrod nodded at her twice and then climbed up onto the
mattress beside his mother. He settled in by her left side and rested his head
against her shoulder, as her arm came around cradle his back. He kept the hand
that he wanted to wrap around her waist tucked in close to his chest, surprised
at how big his mother’s belly had grown.
Mama had explained that there was a new baby in her stomach, but Jarrod still
didn’t understand how the baby was going to get out. Mama had told him that he
didn’t need to worry about that because the baby would come when it was ready,
and that soon he would have a new brother or sister to play with. Jarrod had
listened to her intently and then accepted this answer with the trust and
wisdom of his age, as she knew he would.
Mother and son lay side by side, but neither spoke. They didn’t need to; touch
was enough for both. Instead, Jarrod listened to the sound of the wind blowing
outside, the sound he had paid little attention to earlier, and to the
crackling of the fire inside the stove. His mother reached across with her
other arm to cradle him closer and he felt her head rest against his. Feeling
safe and protected within his mother’s arms, he eventually drifted into sleep.
“Jarrod?” Victoria called to him softly. When he didn’t respond, she let her
right hand fall back to her side. Reaching across her body had been difficult
and she had feared that it might bring on a spasm of pain. She slowly stroked
her stomach, as if to soothe the child within it, while she tried to analyze
what was happening. Something was terribly wrong with this pregnancy. For one
thing, she was still four weeks away from bringing the baby to full term but
had started having random contractions earlier that afternoon. And then there
was the change in the baby’s movements. She had noticed that the baby was
moving less in her womb and had more or less expected this, but what surprised
her was that the kicks and pushes weren’t as strong as they had been. All of
her internal senses were screaming that something was wrong.
Finally, after a terse discussion with Tom, she sent him off to get help. Tom
hadn’t wanted to leave her and tried to convince her that she and Jarrod should
go with him instead. But Victoria had insisted upon staying in their home, and
Tom finally realized that he had no choice except to bring help to her.
Moreover, if Victoria felt something was wrong, he knew he needed to act right away.
He had learned early on in their marriage to trust his wife’s instincts. And
so, on this chilly, late winter’s afternoon, he instructed his wife to stay in
bed and his son to look after his mother, then hitched up the team to the wagon
and headed out to fetch Ginny Kyles.
* * * * * * * *
Jacob and Virginia Kyles had come to the Valley about the
same time as the Barkleys and had ended up purchasing sixty acres due south of
the Barkleys’ property, making them Tom and Victoria’s closest neighbors. Like
the Barkleys, the Kyles had been married for less than a year when they arrived
in California, but whereas Tom and Victoria were from the East, the Kyles
hailed from the state of Indiana in the Midwest.
Despite the fact that Victoria was city born and Virginia was a country girl,
the two women had become friends right away, although Tom didn’t feel the same
affinity for her husband. In Tom’s opinion, Jake Kyles was a hard man to like.
Virginia Kyles, or Ginny as she preferred to be called, was another matter.
Where her husband was dour and secretive, Ginny was outgoing and open. It was,
in fact, impossible not to like her. On their first meeting as neighbors, Ginny
not only learned both Tom and Victoria’s background but shared hers and Jake’s
as well.
Ginny had been employed as a midwife in Indiana and had met Jake when she was
called to his family’s farm to assist in the birth of his sister’s child. He
had courted her, and they eventually married. For half a year, they had lived
with Jake’s family on the farm, while they both worked to raise the money they
would need to move to California. Like the Barkleys, it had been the Kyles’
dream to move out west and start a new life. But Jake found ranching to be
difficult, as he was more used to farming than tending livestock. That was how
they had met the Barkleys; Ginny had hoped that, as neighbors, they could help
each other and so had ridden over to the Barkley ranch to introduce herself and
invite them for dinner.
Tom and Victoria had accepted Ginny’s invitation and subsequently met her
husband, Jake. But it became clear at once that he had no real desire to
socialize with them, let alone ask for help from Tom. Thus, Jake and Tom
avoided each other after that, but Ginny and Victoria’s friendship flourished.
In Victoria Barkley, Virginia Kyle found a kindred spirit. Victoria was the
oldest of five, and when her mother had fallen ill, she had taken on much of
the responsibility of raising her siblings, as well as helping her father run
their freight business. Like Virginia, she wasn’t afraid of hard work. Both
were supportive of their husbands, but fiercely independent in their own right,
and both hoped for families of their own. Secretly, Tom was pleased that his
wife and Ginny were good friends, for there were some things that a husband and
wife couldn’t share, and there were times when women needed other women,
childbirth being one of them. When the time had come for Ginny’s first baby to
be born, she asked Victoria to be there to help and talked her through the
birthing process. Likewise, Ginny had been there for Jarrod’s birth and
promised Victoria that she would be there for the next baby as well.
Now, that time had apparently come. Tom could only hope that Ginny’s skills
would be able to help Victoria deliver this baby safely, without harm to either
his wife or his unborn child.
* * * * * * * *
It was getting hot again, Victoria decided. She looked
over to the table to see if Tom had left her something to drink, and saw a
nearly full glass of water, just beyond her reach. She glanced down at Jarrod
who still lay sleeping beside her and for a moment contemplated sliding them
both over in the bed to get closer to the table. Experimentally, she moved her
arm out to the side, and tried to lift up her shoulders, but he was too heavy
to move. Realizing she had no choice but to wake her son, Victoria gently
brushed the hair away from Jarrod’s eyes and shook him awake.
“Mama, what is it? Is Papa home?” Jarrod sat up slowly and rubbed the sleep
from his eyes.
“No, Sweetheart, not yet. Jarrod, I’m thirsty. Can you bring me the glass of
water that’s on the table?”
Jarrod sat up and stretched, yawning hugely, then turned and smiled back at
her. “Yes Mama.” He slid off the bed in an easy motion and made his way over to
the table. Lifting the glass carefully, he brought it over to her, taking care
not to spill any of the liquid in it.
Victoria reached out and took the glass from his hands,
smiling at him with approval. She brought it to her mouth to take a sip, when
suddenly she felt a strong kick from the baby, followed by an excruciating pain
which radiated from her midriff. The glass slipped from her hand, shattering as
it hit the hard wooden floor. Oblivious to Jarrod’s cry of distress, she moaned
and clutched at her distended stomach with both hands. In that instant, she
tried to take a breath, but it wouldn’t come…..seconds stretched into an
eternity as she tried again and again to inhale. Somehow, the baby’s activity
had blocked her ability to draw air into her lungs. As her panic rose, she
could hear Jarrod’s frantic voice calling out to her over and over, could feel
him pulling on her arm with all the strength he could muster, trying to get her
to answer him. She couldn’t respond however, and to her horror, as darkness
overtook her, she felt a rush of water between her legs.
* * * * * * * *
Victoria was dreaming….or at least she thought she was.
She sat on a fallen tree beside a river and recognized her surroundings; she
was at the spot she and Tom had discovered on their first cattle drive. The
river ran fast, its current fed by the winter snow that melted in the mountains
as spring settled over the Valley. Tom was nowhere to be seen, but a few feet
away, near the river’s bank, two dark haired boys romped in the spring grass,
teasing and chasing each other.
She recognized the largest of the boys as her son, Jarrod, his vivid blue eyes
glancing over at her from time to time as if to check on her. Then his
attention would swing back to the boy who teased him, and he would chase after
him, grinning wildly. She studied the other boy carefully. He was smaller than
Jarrod and apparently younger, with dark hair that matched her son’s and hazel
colored eyes that alternately flashed in challenge and delight as he evaded
Jarrod’s attempts to catch him. Although she never recalled seeing him before,
somehow she felt she knew him.
The two boys drew closer to her, almost within her arms’ reach but towards the
bank of the river as well. She was about to call out to them, when the
brown-eyed boy lost his footing and fell into the rushing water. Victoria felt
her pulse suddenly race with fear. Without thinking, she lunged for him, trying
to catch him. Somehow, she managed to grab his arm, but the force of the water
pulled her in as well, and as she went under, she saw Jarrod reach for her and
heard his frantic yell……..
* * * * * * * *
“Mama!!!!”
Victoria swam up from unconsciousness, a fragment of the dream still with her,
as she heard her young son’s cry. Slowly, she opened her eyes.
Jarrod was sobbing and holding her right hand tightly in both of his; she was
lying half on her side in the bed, facing him. Unknowingly, he had turned her
towards him, and in doing so, had somehow made it possible for her to breathe.
She knew that he wasn’t even aware of what he had done.
Sensing that her own heart was pounding, Victoria took in slow, deep breaths,
willing her pulse to slow down. Now that she was able to breathe, memory
flooded back and she shook her head to clear her mind…….. She remembered
feeling her water break ....how long had she been unconscious? Was her baby in
danger, and how long did she have before the next contraction hit? And where
was Tom?
She called out to Jarrod who was still crying, trying to get his attention. She
had to calm him down or her own stress would rise. Talking to him calmly, she
pulled him in towards her. Just then, she heard the door to their home open.
She watched as Jarrod turned towards the sound, eyes widening. He dropped her
hand and flew past her out of the bedroom.
“Papa!!!”
* * * * * * * *
Tom Barkley barely had time to throw his hat on the
kitchen table before his son barreled into his legs.
“Papa……..you gotta come!! Mama needs help!!” Jarrod was frantic, crying as he
tried to grab his father’s arm and pull him towards the room where his mother
lay.
With ease, Tom disengaged his arm from his son’s grip and swung his boy up into
his arms, giving him a quick hug. “I know, son…..I’ve brought it.” He shifted
Jarrod to his right side, and turned back to address Ginny, who had followed
him into the house. “Ginny, Vic’s in the bedroom.”
Ginny quickly slipped her coat off, dropped it onto a nearby chair and then
moved past Tom towards the room he had pointed to. Tom moved to follow her, but
she stopped suddenly, turning back to him and blocking his path.
“Tom, I’ll see to your wife but you better stoke the fire back up and get some
water boiling. Also, if Victoria has any clean towels and linen anywhere, it’d
be a good idea to gather them up. Lastly, I think it’d be best if you stay out
here with Jarrod for a few minutes while I examine Victoria. I’m sure both you
and Jarrod could use a bite to eat.”
Tom had been about to insist that he wasn’t hungry and that Vic needed him
more, but then Ginny looked pointedly at Jarrod and gave Tom a meaningful
glance. Tom looked at his son closely then. He was no longer crying, but his
eyes were red and his face tear-stained. Ginny was right; she needed to attend
to Vic while he needed to take care of Jarrod. He nodded back at Jake Kyle’s
wife with gratitude and respect.
“I’ll do whatever you tell me to do, Ginny…you know what’s best. Both Victoria
and I trust you completely.” He pulled a red handkerchief out of his pocket and
gave it to Jarrod. “Blow your nose, son,” he said gently. As Jarrod complied,
he turned back to Ginny. “Is there anything else you need me to do right now?”
Ginny looked at Tom with appreciation. She was used to having her instructions
questioned by most of the husbands she worked with, including her own. She
wondered if her friend knew how lucky she was.
“No, Tom. I think you got me to Torie’n the nick of time.” She saw that Jarrod
was staring at her now; impulsively, she reached out to tousle his hair. “Just
see to Jarrod and stand by. I should be out in a few minutes, but if I need you
sooner, I’ll come get you.” Then, offering up a silent prayer, she entered the
bedroom.
* * * * * * * *
Ginny closed the bedroom door behind her and scanned the
room. Her friend was lying in the bed, on her side, with her eyes closed. As
she neared the bed, Ginny noted the pieces of broken glass on the floor.
Cursing softly, she used her foot to push what she could under the bed. She’d
clean it up later.
By the light of the oil lamp, Ginny could see that Victoria was sweating
profusely. She knelt carefully beside the bed and took the other woman’s hand
in hers.
“Torie?”
At her voice, Victoria opened her eyes. “Ginny”, she breathed, “Thank God
you’re here. Where’s Tom?”
“I told him to stay with Jarrod and take care of him while I looked you over.
How are you feeling? Are you having any contractions?” Ginny was concerned for
her friend but kept it from her voice. As a midwife, she needed to keep her
patient calm and focused.
“Yes, and they’ve been random…but Ginny, I think my water broke.”
Ginny shifted her position and reached to feel the surface of the bed beside
Victoria. She then nodded her head affirmatively. “You’re right, it has……..do
you know how long ago?”
Victoria shook her head slowly. “No, I don’t. I passed out just before it
happened. Ginny, something’s wrong.” Just then, another wave of pain hit her,
causing her to cry out involuntarily.
She squeezed the midwife’s hand hard.
Ginny waited, counting the seconds until her friend’s grip on her hand eased,
and then spoke. “Torie, I need to examine you, right now. I’m going to turn you
on your back to do that. Can you help me?”
Victoria looked at her fearfully. “I don’t know if I can. The last time I was
on my back, I couldn’t breathe. If it wasn’t for Jarrod turning me, I think I’d
have died.” Ginny could see the truth of her statement in her friend’s eyes,
and the fear. She spoke to reassure her friend.
“Torie, at the first sign of trouble, I’ll turn you back, I promise. From what
you’ve told me, I think I know what’s happening, and the only way to confirm it
is to get you into a back-lying position. Please trust me on this.”
Victoria acquiesced, and without further discussion, rolled onto her back with
the midwife’s assistance. Blessedly, her breathing wasn’t affected this time;
still, she focused on taking slow, deep breaths as Ginny poked and prodded the
girth of her abdomen, occasionally hitting a tender area.
It was as Ginny feared. The baby was in the wrong position, with its head
facing up instead of down towards the entrance of its mother’s womb. Victoria
hadn’t been able to breathe because the baby’s head had pushed up into her
ribcage. And she had been right about her son’s actions. If it hadn’t been for
Jarrod turning her, both she and the baby would likely have been dead when she
and Tom arrived. Ginny shivered at the realization that she had almost lost her
friend before she could help her. Now, it was up to her to tell Victoria of her
findings and to deliver this baby before anything else could go wrong.
* * * * * * * *
Ginny made her way back to Victoria’s side after going
over to the basin to wring out the towel in it and bring it back to her friend.
She carefully wiped the sweat away from the pregnant woman’s face, hoping the
sweat wasn’t due to any fever. Ginny had seen women develop infections after
childbirth and had lost a few patients herself that way, although not many.
“Torie,” she spoke softly, “you were right. “The baby’s upside down – I think
it’s coming feet first. That’s why you couldn’t breathe before; its head is in
the wrong place.” She went on administering to her friend as Victoria listened
to her, stunned into silence by this revelation. “As near as I can figure, when
Jarrod turned you, your water broke and the baby slid down a little. That’s why
you can breathe now. But Torie,” and Ginny steadied her voice, “the baby isn’t
ready to come yet.” She waited, already knowing what her friend would say next.
“Ginny, when will it be ready? And what kind of help is my baby going to need?”
There was desperation in Victoria's voice.
Ginny paused before answering and choose her next words carefully. She didn’t
want to frighten her friend, but it was best if she knew what to expect. “First
thing is, your contractions have to start coming sooner and regular, just like
when you had Jarrod, remember?”
At Victoria’s nod, she continued. “When that happens, the passage opens up and
the baby has more room to come through. I think that’s gonna happen soon with
you; the signs are all there. But there’s a chance this is going to be
difficult because of the direction the baby is facing. It means the baby will
come out backward. Not only backward, but we won’t know for sure what part of
the baby will come out first, although I’m thinking it’ll be feet first. Do you
understand me so far, Torie?”
Once again, Victoria nodded, so Ginny pushed on. “Now, there are ways we can
try to help the baby. I can try to turn it so it’s facing the right way or we
can get you up on your feet and see if it turns naturally. There’s also a
chance we’re worrying for naught if the baby’s small.” She went on quickly,
forestalling any questions from the woman lying on the bed.
“I can deliver your baby, Torie,” Ginny’s gaze burned into Victoria’s as she
spoke, “but there are risks. You need to know this up front before anything
happens here.” She didn’t add that the baby might already be at risk due to the
water breaking early; what happened couldn't be changed and her friend didn’t
need to hear that at this particular moment.
She went on, and didn't hold anything back. “You might lose this baby in any
number of ways, in spite of our efforts here. The cord could fall out and be
crushed. It may even wrap around the baby’s neck. And you could be hurt too.
The birth could tear you in ways that can’t be avoided, even by me.” She took
Victoria’s hand again.
“But this baby is gonna get here, come hell or high-water, and you can only do
this with my help. I know I can do this, Torie….trust me on this.” She squeezed
Victoria’s hand, in encouragement and support.
“Ginny.” Her name was spoken so softly that Ginny needed to lean closer to hear
what Victoria was about to say. “Do what you have to do.” Her friend’s voice
was barely a whisper, as she tried to hold back tears. “But let me speak with
Tom first.”
* * * * * * * *
Tom Barkley paced in the confines of his home, his
thoughts focused on his wife and as yet unborn child. It was obvious , even to him, that there was a problem with the
pregnancy, but never, in a thousand years, would he have guessed that it was
one of this magnitude.
When Ginny had explained the problem to him, at first he thought she was
joking; she couldn’t be serious, that the baby was going to come out feet
first. And even then, he didn’t realize the danger involved. It wasn’t until
she explained to him the potential problems in more details, such as the baby’s
head getting stuck or the umbilical cord getting squeezed, that he truly
understood the seriousness of the situation. Then he had gone in to see his
wife, while Ginny waited outside of the room.
They had little time together, for Ginny had stressed the importance of not
waiting too long to prepare. As far as she could tell, Victoria’s contractions
were getting closer together, and each minute they delayed increased the risk
for both her and the baby. Quietly, he and Vic reaffirmed their love for each
other, and he had promised her that no matter what Ginny asked of him, he would
do it. Then he went back out to finish seeing to his son and to wait for
instructions from Ginny.
Tom sent Jarrod off to bed as soon as he left the room. It was past his son’s
bedtime and he didn’t want Jarrod underfoot, he told himself, knowing that the
real reason was that if Victoria died tonight, Tom wouldn’t be able to bear
telling Jarrod that his mother was dead, while dealing with his own grief.
Furthermore, the thought of his wife dying while the baby survived was even
more terrifying to Tom, and he expressed that to Ginny when they were both out
of the room.
But Ginny wasn’t having any negative thoughts and told him so outright.
Instead, she set him to gathering the supplies she needed….lots of hot water,
clean towels and sheets, a sharp knife, and even a needle and thread to be
dropped in boiling water, if needed. Lastly, she had him pour a shot of whiskey
for his wife. Ginny hoped it would help Torie relax and dull any pain she might
feel throughout the birth, without interfering with her ability to push when needed. Tom didn’t question any of it; he did
whatever the midwife asked of him, as he promised his wife he would. There was
nothing to do now but wait.
An hour and a half into his vigil, Tom sat in the kitchen, nursing a cup of
strong, black coffee. He would have preferred a glass of whiskey, but he
couldn’t risk it. He didn’t know when Ginny might need him for something and it
wouldn’t do to have dulled wits. She had called out to him once already, to
bring her more hot water and soap. He carried the soap and water to the bedroom
door, and as he stood there waiting, he heard Victoria moaning from within the
room. The sound cut into him like a knife and it was all he could do to keep
from charging in. Ginny just opened the door and took the water and soap from
his hands, with barely a glance at him, before shutting the door firmly in his
face.
He took another sip of his coffee, realized it was lukewarm and was about to
get up and refill his cup, when he felt a tug on his arm. He looked down, into
the face of his son.
“What’s the matter, Jarrod? What’re you
doing up out of bed?”
Jarrod yawned and rubbed his eyes. “I had a dream, Papa…….it woke me up. Now
I’m thirsty.”
"It wasn't a bad dream, was it?"
"No, Papa." Jarrod didn't exactly lie. He had woken up frightened but
didn't know why and couldn't remember if the dream was bad or not.
“Well, now, let’s just get you a glass of water, and then it’s back to bed with
you, son.”
Tom rose from the table, retrieved a glass from the cabinet and headed towards
the water barrel. Jarrod followed him automatically. Just then, there was
muffled yell from the bedroom. Jarrod turned with a start, staring at the door
worriedly. When the yell wasn’t repeated, he turned back to his father with a
questioning look in his eyes.
“Papa, was that Mama? Is she gonna be all right?”
Tom swallowed hard. Keeping his voice light, he answered Jarrod in the only way
he could.
“Don’t you fret, son. Mrs. Kyles is with your mother, and she’s going to take
good care of her.”
Using the ladle that hung on the side of the barrel, Tom filled the glass with
water and without further comment, handed it to Jarrod. He waited patiently as
his son drained the glass; when Jarrod was finished, he took it back, watching
with affection as his son wiped his mouth on the back of his night shirt
sleeve. Tom put the glass down on the
table and then, resting his hand on Jarrod’s shoulder, walked with him back to
his room.
As they approached Jarrod’s bed, Tom remembered what Ginny told him earlier,
about how Jarrod had unknowingly saved Victoria and the child she carried. He
hadn’t talked to his boy about what had happened while he was alone with his
mother; there frankly hadn’t been enough time since he and Ginny arrived at the
house. Well, there was no time like the present, so the saying went.
He held the covers up as Jarrod climbed into bed, and then tucked the blankets
in around him. The house was cooling, he realized belatedly. He would need to
add more wood to the stove….but not before he took care of this task first.
Tom finished rearranging the blankets on Jarrod’s bed and then sat down on the
edge of the mattress, his large frame causing it to dip. “Jarrod,” he began,
“You did a good job of minding your mother." He patted his son on his leg,
through the blankets. “Mama told Mrs. Kyles that you took care of her real well
while I was gone.”
Jarrod raised hopeful eyes to his father. “She did, Papa?” No one had said
anything to him about Mama since his father had returned with the midwife and
he hadn’t been allowed in to see her since then. The last thing he knew was
that Mama had dropped the glass as he was giving it to her and had been in
pain, and he was worried that he was to blame. It occurred to him that maybe
his Papa didn’t know this. He looked at his father crest-fallen.
“But Papa, I broke a glass and Mama was in awful pain and wouldn’t wake up.”
Tom frowned. Ginny hadn’t mentioned anything about a broken glass to him. It
likely wasn’t important. But looking at Jarrod and the expression in his eyes,
it was obvious that what had happened while Jarrod minded his mother was
weighing heavily on his son's mind.
“A broken glass is nothing to fret over, Son; it can always be replaced. And as
for your mother’s pain, well, that wasn’t your fault either. That’s just what
happens when babies are being born. You did good, Jarrod, and I’m proud of
you.”
Hearing his father say that made Jarrod feel so good that he thought his heart
would burst. But he was so tired. He yawned once more and curled over onto his
side, pulling his blankets around him tighter. His thoughts as he closed his
eyes were happy, as his father’s words of praise repeated themselves in his
head. Seeing his son resting easy, Tom couldn’t help but smile down at his boy,
despite his worry about his wife.
“Go to sleep now, Son, and when you wake up in the morning, Mama will be there
and you’ll have a new baby brother or sister.” God willing.
Jarrod’s eyes opened a fraction. “Not a sister, Papa, a brother,” Jarrod
murmured. “Brother Nick.”
* * * * * * * *
Tom had started to stand up, but Jarrod’s words stopped
him. He stared down at his son. Where had that come from? And why that name? He
and Vic didn’t know anyone named Nick, although Jarrod's Uncle Jim had sent
them a book of poetry for Christmas that included a poem about a visit from
Saint Nicholas. Since then, it had become one of his son's favorite bedtime
stories.
“What did you say?” He had to lean closer to hear his son’s next words.
“I’m gonna have a brother, Papa ...I heard Missus Kyles say so,” Jarrod replied
sleepily. “She said she got to Mama and Nick in time.” Slowly, his eyes closed
again.
Tom studied his boy, as he cast his thoughts back through all that had happened
and been said that night. Ginny had said she had gotten to Victoria 'in the
nick of time,' not to Victoria 'and Nick' in time. Tom opened his
mouth to correct his son, but by then Jarrod was nearly asleep. Tom saw no need
to wake him.
He leaned over and kissed his son on the forehead instead. “We’ll see,
son…we’ll see."
* * * * * * * *
It was another three hours before Tom finally heard the
sound that he had been waiting for – the high-pitched wail of a newborn meeting
the world for the first time. Up to that point, most of what echoed through the
small home were the sporadic cries of his wife, interspersed with occasional
shouts from Ginny; both had reached a crescendo just a few minutes before he
heard the baby’s cry.
The baby had apparently fared well, but what about Victoria? He jumped to his
feet and waited at the door of his bedroom, patiently at first, but that
changed as the minutes ticked by. Unsure, he called out to the midwife.
“Ginny? Is everything all right? Is Victoria all right?”
“Just a minute, Tom. Be patient.”
Patience, however, was not a Barkley virtue. Tom was about to pound on the door
when Ginny opened it from the other side. In her arms she held a tiny infant
bundled in sheets. The midwife smiled up at him, wearily but happily, and held
the baby out to him.
“Congratulations, Tom. You and Torie have a new son.”
With care, Tom took his newborn son from her, sheets and all, cradling the baby
close to his chest. Taking in the small
size of his second-born, he sensed that he held a miracle in his hands.
“Ginny, was it feet first, like you thought?”
Ginny nodded. “We were lucky. His feet were pointing down, but not completely,
like I feared. But it was close enough. If it had been a few more weeks……,” she
didn’t need to complete the sentence. Tom could see in her eyes how close it
had been.
Tom looked past Ginny to the bed where Victoria lay. His wife looked drawn and
pale, in a way that he had never seen her look before, but her eyes were
shining at him like two beacons of light. She was propped up in the bed on
pillows with her dark hair flowing down over her shoulders, and the oil lamp
next to the bed cast a soft glow over her features. He thought that perhaps he
would never see a more beautiful sight in his life as long as he lived.
Tom turned back to the midwife and said simply. “Ginny, thank you, for my wife
and my child. If there’s ever anything you need…” his voice trailed off.
“…I’ll be sure to ask you for it, Tom,” Ginny finished for him. She pointed her
head towards the bed, where Victoria waited. “I think Victoria is ready for you
both now. Torie, I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
As Tom carried his newborn son back to his wife, Ginny left the room, and
quietly shut the door behind her. Her work was not done yet. She still had to
pick up the broken glass and take the dirty linen and supplies out of the room.
After that, she would keep watch during the night to ensure that mother and
infant stayed well and then would re-examine both in the morning before asking
Tom to loan her a horse so she could ride back home. She made her way to the
kitchen and checked the coffeepot on the stove. It was still hot and halfway
full. On the table, Tom had left half a loaf of bread, a slab of cheese and
some slices of beef. Locating a clean cup, Ginny poured herself a cup of coffee,
ignored the food, and sat in the chair Tom had just vacated to begin her own
vigil.
* * * * * * * *
As the door shut behind him, Tom carried his infant son
back over to Victoria, carefully laying the baby in the crook of her arm. Then
he pulled a chair over to the side of the bed and watched his wife as she held
their son for the first time.
He was struck again by how small the baby was, and tried to remember how big
Jarrod was at his birth. He was sure that Jarrod had weighed more. He must have
frowned and somehow telegraphed what he was thinking, because suddenly Victoria
laughed softly.
“You needn’t worry, Tom…..he’s going to be just fine. Just because he’s tiny
now doesn’t mean he’ll stay that way,” she teased him gently.
Tom smiled sheepishly, embarrassed at being caught. He leaned forward and
kissed her on her cheek.
“Whatever you say, Vic. I just hope he doesn’t make it a habit to jump in, feet
first, from here on in.”
Victoria’s answering laugh was like music to his ears, and although he thought
he knew the answers to what he was about to ask, he couldn’t help but ask her.
“Are you all right, Vic? And are you happy?”
“Oh yes, Tom….just think! Another son to carry on the Barkley name, and a
brother for Jarrod.” Someday, in the next few weeks, she would tell Tom just
how difficult the delivery had been, but for now, she only wanted to bask in
the contentment of holding her second-born in her arms.
Tom chuckled as he remembered his earlier conversation with his now firstborn
son. “Not just any brother, Vic. Brother Nick,” At his wife’s look of
puzzlement, he explained how Jarrod had come to the conclusion that the baby
would be a boy and that his name was Nick.
He expected Victoria to laugh again, but she turned a thoughtful gaze on him
instead. “Nick……..Nicholas Barkley.” She spoke the name aloud, and he had to
admit that it had a certain rightness to it.
“Oh Tom, I like it.” In her mind, she could see the boy with the hazel colored
eyes from her dream. The name and the boy matched perfectly. “Now, what should
we do about a middle name….?” Her voice
trailed off.
Tom considered her question. “Well, I’ve always liked your father’s name…….How
about Nicholas Jonathan Barkley? That’s a name a man can grow into…..”
Victoria looked down at the infant in her arms. “Nicholas Jonathan Barkley.”
Then she smiled up at Tom. “Where’s Jarrod now?”
“In bed and asleep, Vic.” They both looked at each other, and Tom instantly
knew what she was thinking. He grinned back at her, and rising smoothly from
the chair, left the room to go get Jarrod so he could properly introduce him to
his little brother, Nick.
THE END