The Valentine Legacy (Legacy 3)

Console got two sharp kicks. He burst forward, like a ball out of a cannon, surprising the crowd of at least two hundred people, who, for the most part, had bet against him. James was just too big to win a fast race like this. His friends always rubbed their hands together when he was riding, knowing they could safely bet against him.

He won this time. It was those two kicks that did it. Jessie was certain of that. Console flung himself across the finish line a good length in front of Jigg, from the Warfield stable. Sweating, grinning like a sinner in a roomful of Puritans, James kicked himself free of Console, handed his reins to Oslow, and strode like the conquering hero to his wife, who was standing there, as white as a sheet, staring up at him.

“What the devil is wrong with you? I heard you, Jessie, and I did give Console that little nudge. It worked, didn’t it?” He kissed her hard, hugged her until she gasped, then turned without losing a beat to her father: “Well, Oliver, I fancy after Marathon wins the next three races today, you’ll be coming to our house, a big bottle of champagne under your right arm, bowing and scraping to me, the winner. You can bow and scrape to Jessie, too. She’s the winner’s wife.”

Jessie tugged on his sleeve.

James turned toward Console, who was blowing hard, looking pleased with himself. “Just look at him. What a heart Console has. Jessie was right—he did need the boot heels. He nearly left me behind, he spurted forward so quickly.” He was rubbing his hands together, still elated from his unexpected win, still grinning from ear to ear, words bubbling up in his mind to describe the brilliance of his horse, how Oliver should just give up and offer James a standing offer of champagne. Jessie tugged on his sleeve again. He turned, smiling. “What is it, love? You want to give the conquering hero a kiss?”

She said very clearly, enunciating each word slowly, “James, I think our baby is coming.”

James stared at her blankly. “No, Jessie, that can’t be right. The babe isn’t due for another week, at least. Don’t you remember? You told me that coming to the race today would be good for you, you needed to be out in the fresh air, you needed to exercise your lungs shouting for our horses to win. No, surely you’re wrong about this. I didn’t hear you shouting for your father’s horse, did I? No, you wouldn’t do that.”

“She did,” James’s mother informed him. “However, I speedily brought her to her senses.”

Suddenly Jessie gasped, her arms hugging her big belly.

“Oh my God!” shouted Oliver Warfield. “James, do something. She can’t have my first grandchild here at the racecourse. Damn you! What did you do to my little girl?”

James knew exactly what to do, but he wasn’t permitted to do a thing. As soon as he laid Jessie down on their bed back at Marathon, Dr. Hoolahan—who’d been waiting—shoved him out of the way. “You’re not a doctor—you’re a husband. Go away, James. This isn’t the place for you.”

But Jessie whispered, her lips already dry and cracking from the cries she couldn’t seem to hold inside her, “James, don’t leave me. You promised me that you wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”

James gave Dr. Hoolahan a look and sat himself down beside his wife. “It won’t take long, Jessie. Just hold onto my hand when the pains come. It will be over soon, I swear it to you. Yes, I know it.”

“How the hell do you know how long it will take, James?” Dr. Hoolahan asked, looking up. “You’re not a bloody doctor. All right, so you might help mares when they’re foaling, but that’s nothing like this. I’m the doctor here. This is Jessie’s first child. It will certainly take more than the next twenty minutes. It will probably take hours, maybe even days. Why, I knew one first child who required a full four days to be born.”

Jessie moaned at that.

“Don’t say that, damn you,” James said, turning. “You’re scaring the hell out of her and me. Just get on with what you have to do. Don’t listen to him, Jessie. Listen to me. I’m your husband, and I know what I’m talking about. Dancy is good for stitching up cuts, but he doesn’t know all that much. He’s just bragging about that baby that took the four days. No, you’re coming along very nicely. It will be over soon.”

“Hurrmph,” Dancy Hoolahan said.

“I hate this,” Jessie said, closing her eyes as she felt Dr. Hoolahan’s hands move between her legs and to her belly. Then a pain struck, and she wouldn’t have cared if the entire population of Baltimore had trooped into her bedchamber and commented on her bent, sprawled legs. The pain was ghastly, unimaginable. It was ripping her apart, she knew it. Four days? No, that couldn’t be possible. No human could bear this pain for four days. “I’m not going to survive this, James,” she said, panting between gritted teeth. “My mama didn’t tell me it would be this horrible. It’s worse than horrible. I wish it were you, James, not me. Why the devil can’t it be you?”

Dr. Hoolahan snorted as he stood up between her legs. “James couldn’t bear it, Jessie. He’d be a pitiful mess after just one bout of contractions. Women are much better at it. Think about

the beauty of the experience, how God ordained that you, woman, would be the vessel to carry all generations, think of how blessed you are, think—”

She screamed, nearly lurching off the bed.

“Shut your damned trap, Dancy,” James said, nearly yelling. “No, not you, Jessie. You shout as much as you want to. You’re doing very well. How close are her pains, Dancy?”

“Coming more closely together, obviously. I’m doing other things, James. I haven’t timed them. If you’re so bloody interested, time them yourself.”

“You’re nearly there, love,” James said, “nearly there. That’s right, push as hard as you want.”

To Dr. Hoolahan’s absolute astonishment, and a bit of chagrin as well, Jessie birthed a boy exactly twenty minutes later.

“I don’t believe this,” Dr. Hoolahan said, holding the bawling infant by his heels and giving him a good smack on his tiny buttocks. The yell made both James and Jessie smile. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. This must be some sort of record, Jessie. I will write to the medical journals and report this. Of course, they’ll believe I’m lying just to enlarge my reputation. Jessie, would you mind coming with me if they do disbelieve me and testify that I did indeed birth your child in a mere twenty minutes?”

“I don’t think so, Dancy,” Jessie said, staring toward the naked baby he held in his arms, seemingly unaware of him. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

“I suppose not,” Dr. Hoolahan said, looking down at the baby, who promptly yelled.

“He sounds just like you, James,” Jessie said.

“I was thinking that was your voice I just heard, Jessie.”