Christmas had come and gone, and despite the fact that everyone was slightly on edge due to the nearness of a certain woman's due date, it had been a companionable couple of days. The snow was not yet deep enough to hold them all captive at the Brambles, and the track showed the signs of the visitors that had gone back and forth to and from the neighboring farmsteads to share in the celebration of the season. It had been a peaceful celebration of the family holiday, and though there had been some sadness over those who were not with them, there had been a good deal of laughter to ease them through it.
The sense of relief, however, was not long lived. Restlessness had descended upon Mrs Lassiter as Boxing Day had gathered apace, and as night fell on the 26th, it became clear that the birth they had all been hoping would hold itself off just a few days more had come upon them on the coldest night of the year thus far. Jodie had immediately taken charge, but even her sound good sense and experience couldn't hurry nature. By the afternoon of the 27th, Marin was still suffering with her labor, exhausted and pale, and increasingly frightened with each contraction that wracked her body. She'd been set up in her parents' old room, the room where she herself had been born, small and breathless in the middle of the big bed as she struggled to keep up with the difficulties of giving birth.
Evan had been through the birth of a child once already in his life. Maggie's birth had not been an easy one, and there was little a man could do to help with such things but watch and wait and pray, and Evan wasn't much for praying. He'd taken to pacing the hallway during those times when Jodie had banished him from the room to do God only knew what. Mostly, he sat by Marin's side and held her hand or wiped her brow and tried to offer loving and patient words of encouragement. There was little more he could do but wait, and the waiting was enough to drive him to madness.
Marin had never been so tired. Though at the beginning of the long labor she had been able to snatch a few minutes of sleep now and then, there had been no opportunity to do so for the past several hours. Each time a contraction ripped through her, she cried out, fighting not to push down as Jodie snapped at her not to, clinging tightly to Evan's hand. But now, not even the contractions could draw from her more than a whimper, her strength all but gone in the interminable wait for nature to take it's course.
Kneeling at the end of the bed, Jodie finally gave her the signal to push, and so she did, using what little strength she had left to try and force the baby from her womb. "There now, love, it's all goin' to come good, I promise you," the older woman was saying as she gently urged the young mother on, sharing a concerned look with Carla. They had carefully arranged a sheet over Marin's knees a few minutes before, to keep the sight of the birth from both parents. Neither woman thought this was going to be a good day. "One more, love, and the baby's head will come free."
As the contraction bit down in her belly, Marin let her head rise from the pillow, squeezing her eyes shut, clenching her teeth, and pushed for all she was worth, gripping onto Evan's hand harder than anyone might have thought was possible. She could have sworn she felt the bones grind together under her grip as, with a horrible burst of pain, she felt a rush of heat and liquid spill from her amid the quiet gasps from the women at the end of the bed.
"Oh, my ..." Jodie cast a sharp look at her daughter-in-law, stilling Carla's shocked response to the gush of blood that accompanied the baby's head, holding the silent child steady as Marin's head fell back against the pillows.
Evan didn't know much about childbirth, but he knew enough to know something was wrong. He'd held his tongue thus far, knowing the women had things well in hand, or as well in hand as they could, but he looked clearly worried. There were circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, and he hadn't eaten much more than a few quickly-gobbled down biscuits and coffee, but a little sleep and some food, and he'd be fine. It was Marin he was worried about. She'd been at it too long, and he knew it. The baby should have been born by now, and the delay didn't bode well for mother or child. He held fast to her hand while he swabbed her face with a cool cloth, more than once, forcing himself to hold his tongue from lack of patience and an overabundance of worry. He gripped Marin's hand tightly as she made that final push, surrendering his stubbornness to a quietly whispered prayer to let the baby come at last and give his wife some peace.
He watched Marin's face as she went pale, struggling to bring their child into the world, his stomach twisting into knots, blaming himself for putting her through such pain. He refused to think that he might lose her. No God could be that cruel as to take another woman from him again. He heard the gasps of the women tending to the birth and jerked his head toward them and the sheet that covered his wife's legs and blocked the sight of their child's birth. "What's wrong?" he asked, a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
There was a moment when Jodie was clearly debating whether or not to say anything. She looked from the child in her hands, still half-born, to the too-pale woman sagged back against the sheets, to the worried husband who met her gaze, and came to a snap decision. "Carla, you run down and send Bill down to Mr Hale," she told her daughter-in-law firmly. The younger woman opened her mouth to object, but was silenced by a decidedly hostile look from her mother-in-law. "Now."
As Carla slipped from the room, her footsteps accelerating as she ran down to the main room below, Jodie eased her voice, cooing softly to Marin. "Just one or two more, love, and we're done," she promised, finally looking up to Evan. She met his gaze head on, deeming him worthy of knowing the truth of things. "Too much blood," was all she said, but it was enough. As the next contraction took hold of the mother, Jodie turned her eyes back to delivering the child, guiding the baby as gently as she could, hoping to keep from doing anymore damage as Marin sobbed in pain.
There was a brief look of panic in his eyes, but panic was the last thing Marin needed from them now. She needed them to be level-headed and calm or they might lose them both. Settled on a chair beside Marin, Evan leaned over, his head close to hers. "It's all right, Marin darlin'. One or two more pushes, and it's all over," he whispered encouragingly as he drew the sweat-matted red locks away from her forehead. Please, God, he whispered in his mind. Please, if you're listening, please, let them both live.
As outside the window the sound of hoofbeats signalled Bill's hasty exit from the Brambles to fetch Mr Hale, Marin turned her head toward Evan, her frighteningly pale face twisted with pain as she cried softly, holding onto his hand. "I can't," she sobbed, breathless and weak. "I can't do this ..." She broke off as another contraction stole her voice, as tense as her weary muscles could make her as Jodie very gently eased the silent baby from the birth channel. There was the slap of skin on skin, a terrifyingly long pause, and suddenly the wails of a newborn child filled the room.
The sense of relief, however, was not long lived. Restlessness had descended upon Mrs Lassiter as Boxing Day had gathered apace, and as night fell on the 26th, it became clear that the birth they had all been hoping would hold itself off just a few days more had come upon them on the coldest night of the year thus far. Jodie had immediately taken charge, but even her sound good sense and experience couldn't hurry nature. By the afternoon of the 27th, Marin was still suffering with her labor, exhausted and pale, and increasingly frightened with each contraction that wracked her body. She'd been set up in her parents' old room, the room where she herself had been born, small and breathless in the middle of the big bed as she struggled to keep up with the difficulties of giving birth.
Evan had been through the birth of a child once already in his life. Maggie's birth had not been an easy one, and there was little a man could do to help with such things but watch and wait and pray, and Evan wasn't much for praying. He'd taken to pacing the hallway during those times when Jodie had banished him from the room to do God only knew what. Mostly, he sat by Marin's side and held her hand or wiped her brow and tried to offer loving and patient words of encouragement. There was little more he could do but wait, and the waiting was enough to drive him to madness.
Marin had never been so tired. Though at the beginning of the long labor she had been able to snatch a few minutes of sleep now and then, there had been no opportunity to do so for the past several hours. Each time a contraction ripped through her, she cried out, fighting not to push down as Jodie snapped at her not to, clinging tightly to Evan's hand. But now, not even the contractions could draw from her more than a whimper, her strength all but gone in the interminable wait for nature to take it's course.
Kneeling at the end of the bed, Jodie finally gave her the signal to push, and so she did, using what little strength she had left to try and force the baby from her womb. "There now, love, it's all goin' to come good, I promise you," the older woman was saying as she gently urged the young mother on, sharing a concerned look with Carla. They had carefully arranged a sheet over Marin's knees a few minutes before, to keep the sight of the birth from both parents. Neither woman thought this was going to be a good day. "One more, love, and the baby's head will come free."
As the contraction bit down in her belly, Marin let her head rise from the pillow, squeezing her eyes shut, clenching her teeth, and pushed for all she was worth, gripping onto Evan's hand harder than anyone might have thought was possible. She could have sworn she felt the bones grind together under her grip as, with a horrible burst of pain, she felt a rush of heat and liquid spill from her amid the quiet gasps from the women at the end of the bed.
"Oh, my ..." Jodie cast a sharp look at her daughter-in-law, stilling Carla's shocked response to the gush of blood that accompanied the baby's head, holding the silent child steady as Marin's head fell back against the pillows.
Evan didn't know much about childbirth, but he knew enough to know something was wrong. He'd held his tongue thus far, knowing the women had things well in hand, or as well in hand as they could, but he looked clearly worried. There were circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, and he hadn't eaten much more than a few quickly-gobbled down biscuits and coffee, but a little sleep and some food, and he'd be fine. It was Marin he was worried about. She'd been at it too long, and he knew it. The baby should have been born by now, and the delay didn't bode well for mother or child. He held fast to her hand while he swabbed her face with a cool cloth, more than once, forcing himself to hold his tongue from lack of patience and an overabundance of worry. He gripped Marin's hand tightly as she made that final push, surrendering his stubbornness to a quietly whispered prayer to let the baby come at last and give his wife some peace.
He watched Marin's face as she went pale, struggling to bring their child into the world, his stomach twisting into knots, blaming himself for putting her through such pain. He refused to think that he might lose her. No God could be that cruel as to take another woman from him again. He heard the gasps of the women tending to the birth and jerked his head toward them and the sheet that covered his wife's legs and blocked the sight of their child's birth. "What's wrong?" he asked, a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
There was a moment when Jodie was clearly debating whether or not to say anything. She looked from the child in her hands, still half-born, to the too-pale woman sagged back against the sheets, to the worried husband who met her gaze, and came to a snap decision. "Carla, you run down and send Bill down to Mr Hale," she told her daughter-in-law firmly. The younger woman opened her mouth to object, but was silenced by a decidedly hostile look from her mother-in-law. "Now."
As Carla slipped from the room, her footsteps accelerating as she ran down to the main room below, Jodie eased her voice, cooing softly to Marin. "Just one or two more, love, and we're done," she promised, finally looking up to Evan. She met his gaze head on, deeming him worthy of knowing the truth of things. "Too much blood," was all she said, but it was enough. As the next contraction took hold of the mother, Jodie turned her eyes back to delivering the child, guiding the baby as gently as she could, hoping to keep from doing anymore damage as Marin sobbed in pain.
There was a brief look of panic in his eyes, but panic was the last thing Marin needed from them now. She needed them to be level-headed and calm or they might lose them both. Settled on a chair beside Marin, Evan leaned over, his head close to hers. "It's all right, Marin darlin'. One or two more pushes, and it's all over," he whispered encouragingly as he drew the sweat-matted red locks away from her forehead. Please, God, he whispered in his mind. Please, if you're listening, please, let them both live.
As outside the window the sound of hoofbeats signalled Bill's hasty exit from the Brambles to fetch Mr Hale, Marin turned her head toward Evan, her frighteningly pale face twisted with pain as she cried softly, holding onto his hand. "I can't," she sobbed, breathless and weak. "I can't do this ..." She broke off as another contraction stole her voice, as tense as her weary muscles could make her as Jodie very gently eased the silent baby from the birth channel. There was the slap of skin on skin, a terrifyingly long pause, and suddenly the wails of a newborn child filled the room.