Despite the darkness, and familiar roads disappearing in the snow, Davis spotted a few landmarks. The Kennedy farm stood off to his left. A few miles down the road he passed Jenkin’s livery. He sighed in relief when his white farmhouse appeared in his view. Instantly, his mouth dried up at the yawning black shadow of the structure. It sat silent and dark, no lights glowing from within. By now Emma would have lit some of the kerosene lamps. Panic caused him to smack the horse’s rump.
Reaching the house, he slid off the horse and waded through the snow to the front door. “Emma!” he shouted. “Emma! Where are you?” Davis shook off as much snow as he could and dropping his coat, gloves and hat on the floor, raced up the stairs.
He skidded to a stop. The bedroom was a mess. A large puddle sat on the floor, and clothes were strewn around the room. His wife was perched on the bed, her hair matted and tangled, and tears poured down her face. She seemed to be pulling on something tied to the bedpost. Her nightgown was wrapped around her waist and she was moaning.
“Oh my God,” he choked. “Honey, what can I do?”
“It’s about damn time you got here,” she growled. Then her features collapsed and she spoke through her tears. “Thank God you’re here. I’m in labor.”
Given her initial greeting, he decided it was not the best time to point out he’d already guessed that.
“Is Dr. Quigley coming?”
“I don’t know for sure. When I left Hans he was going to see the doctor to let him know you were most likely in labor. Mae guessed that when I told her about your backache. Then it took me forever to get here. The snow is bad.”
“Then we’ll have to do it ourselves.” She panted and grunted as another pain hit her.
“What should I do?” Davis licked his dry lips, trying hard not to fall apart. Like most men, the secrets of childbirth were something he had never intended to view firsthand. He didn’t mind being there back when it all started, but certainly this end result wasn’t something most men felt kindly about bearing witness to.
“Get some more towels and heat water up. Find my good kitchen scissors and wash them well. Oh, and see if you can mop up the water on the floor.” She howled once more and gripped the sheets. “Now!”
Davis raced from the room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He’d been home two hours and Emma was still gripping the sheet and moaning in pain. He had cleaned up the bedroom, changed her nightgown, and had the scissors, towels and hot water ready. He fingered a cloth he kept dipping into cool water that he used to wipe her face.
He w
as starting to get worried. Emma looked exhausted. The dark circles under her eyes grew more prominent, almost as if she’d been hit. The most frightening times were when she wasn’t sure where she was.
She’d given up on grasping the sheet, and now just tossed her head back and forth and pulled her knees up and groaned as the pains came. The pains now seemed to be more intense, and came quicker. He hoped that meant the baby was almost ready to come out.
“Damn, don’t just stand there staring at me. I think the baby’s coming.” Emma gasped as another pain ripped through her. “Help me to sit up, I think that’s the best way.”
Once settled, she cupped his face in her hands. “I’m so sorry. I don’t understand why I’m nasty like this.”
Davis shook his head, terrified she wouldn’t make it through the birth. She looked so exhausted. He scooted to the end of the bed and checked between her legs. “Honey, I think I see the baby’s head!” He grinned at her. “Now you need to push.”
“I’m so tired, I can’t do it.” She collapsed against the pillows and closed her eyes. Then she shot back up when another pain rippled her stomach. “I can’t take any more of this!” she screamed.
“Damn it, yes, you can, darlin’. I’ll get behind you and you need to push the next time you have a pain.” He moved behind her, and pulling up on her knees yelled, “Push. Push, Emma. You can do it, honey, come on.”
Emma gave one big screech and the baby slid out, screaming. Davis released her knees and picked up the slippery baby.
“It’s a girl, Emma! We have a daughter!”
“Let me see her.” Emma’s tongue swiped her dry lips, and the tears that slid down her cheeks.
“I’ll clean her up first, honey. She’s all sticky.” He dipped a towel into the warm water and gently wiped the small body off. Then he laid her on Emma’s stomach as he used the clean scissors to cut the cord. Within minutes she expelled the rest of the afterbirth, which he wrapped in a towel.
They both examined the baby, marveling at her tiny fingers and toes. She had a head full of dark curly hair. Her skin was soft and red. She continued to wail and wave her little fists in the air.
“Maybe she’s hungry.” Davis studied this little scrap of humanity.
Emma took the baby in her arms and guided her mouth to her breast. Immediately, the tiny rosebud mouth latched on to her nipple and began to suckle.
Emma looked up at Davis with tears in her eyes. “She’s perfect.”