Lightning Only Strikes Twice (21 page)

“I can’t! Aaahh…ahh!” Elizabeth released a terrified scream.

“Try to relax,” Mavis said.

Elizabeth gulped in air, blowing it out hastily through pursed lips. “It—hurts.”

Annie grew concerned. It seemed with every contraction, Elizabeth grew weaker.

Mavis lifted Elizabeth’s legs and examined her. “It’s time.” To Elizabeth she said, “You’ll need to start pushing with the next contraction.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Okay.”

Annie let go of the breath she’d been holding. Finally!

She watched Elizabeth for signs of the next contraction. Too quickly, it was upon the expectant mother.

“Good,” Mavis said. “That deep breathing thing seems to be helping. You take some more. Slow and steady.”

Annie sucked in air, providing an example. Elizabeth joined in.

“Very good,” Mavis said. “Now breathe out.”

Together, Annie and Elizabeth did as Mavis instructed. “You’re doing great, Elizabeth. Again.”

The two women took three more breaths in tandem before Elizabeth screamed, “Ahhhh! It’s coming.”

“Okay.” Mavis pushed away the covers to give her more room and lifted Elizabeth’s knees. “It’s time to push.”

Annie held Elizabeth’s hand as she bore down, her face tightening in concentration.

“Mmmmmahh!” Elizabeth groaned as she pushed.

“Keep pushing. I can see the top of the head.” Mavis’ announcement encouraged Elizabeth to push harder. “You’re doing great. The baby’s almost here.”

The contraction ended. Exhausted, Elizabeth collapsed against the pillows. Her sweat-soaked face was as pale as the white bed sheets. Shallow breaths came in quick snatches between blanched lips.

Annie wiped the sweat from her own eyes before soaking the cloth in cool water. “One more,” she said, wiping Elizabeth’s brow. “One more and the baby will be here. Right, Mavis?”

Mavis nodded.

Elizabeth gave a weak smile, but didn’t speak.

“Can you give me more breaths?” Mavis asked.

Elizabeth nodded and together she and Annie started the breathing process again.

“The…next…one…is…coming,” Elizabeth said, clenching her teeth.

Mavis repositioned Elizabeth’s legs. “Ready?” she asked.

Elizabeth gave a barely discernible nod.

“Push.”

Scrunching forward, Elizabeth grabbed her knees, gritted her teeth, and leaned into the contraction.

“That’s it. You’re doing great. Keep pushing.”

“MMMM—ahhh.”

“It’s here! The baby’s here!” Mavis said, pulling the newborn toward her. “Oh, Elizabeth, it’s a boy. You have a beautiful, strapping baby boy.”

The room seemed to tilt. Annie took a deep breath and let it out slowly, hardly able to believe she’d just witnessed the birth of her great-grandfather.

Chapter Twelve

Mavis wiped remnants of the birth away from the baby’s face and wrapped the squirming, slippery infant in a clean towel. The newborn took his first breath and wailed.

Annie’s fear that the baby would be weak from a premature birth was unfounded. A sense of awe filled her heart as she marveled at the new life. “Oh, Elizabeth, he’s so beautiful.”

Mavis laid the baby on the side of the bed and with a strip of cloth, tied off the umbilical. Picking up a knife, she doused it with some whisky and sliced through the cord.

“Hand me one of those small blankets,” Mavis instructed Annie.

Annie found a tiny quilt and Mavis wrapped him tightly. She laid the tiny bundle in Elizabeth’s waiting arms.

Elizabeth touched her nose to the baby’s.

Tears stung Annie’s eyes. “Congratulations, Momma.”

“My little angel,” Elizabeth murmured, kissing the newborn’s cheek. “You were right, Annie. I have a son.”

Mavis brushed the back of her hand across her forehead. “The hard part’s over,” she said to Elizabeth. “You can rest now.”

“Thank you, my dear friends.” Elizabeth’s eyes glistened as she looked at Annie and Mavis. “Thank you so much.”

Annie had never known this moment of wonder herself, but it was one of the most precious sights she’d ever witnessed. In a small way, she now understood why women endured the hardships of pregnancy and labor to bring another living being into the world. The vision of the Madonna and Child couldn’t be as breathtaking as Elizabeth with her newborn son.

A sense of rightness settled over Annie. With mother and child together, she’d make sure they were safe. Elizabeth
would
see her son grow old.

The baby made odd grunting noises that disrupted the serene moment.

Annie couldn’t help a laugh of sheer delight.

“He’s hungry,” Mavis said. “Annie, find another pillow to put under Elizabeth’s head.”

Mavis helped Elizabeth to a sitting position and Annie slipped the pillow in to prop her up. Then Mavis helped Elizabeth disrobe one side.

Annie wasn’t certain how Mavis knew the baby was hungry, but as soon as Elizabeth cradled him to her breast, the little mouth latched on.

Although pale and damp from the exertion, Elizabeth beamed at the other two women while the baby suckled.

The treasured moment of life begetting life—the most basic nurturing of mankind—stamped an indelible image in Annie’s mind. She watched, mesmerized, unable to look away.

Gradually, the sounds of Mavis tidying up penetrated Annie’s consciousness. As Mavis left the room with a bundle of soiled towels, Annie picked up the washbasin to bring fresh water from the kitchen.

“AAAH!”

Annie was partially through the doorway when Elizabeth cried out.

She whirled around and saw Elizabeth’s back arch. The new mother’s face contorted as she lifted herself and the infant off the pillows. In the next instant, Elizabeth doubled over.

“Mavis!” Panic swelled her voice.

Mavis came running in, a fresh set of bedding in her arms. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Annie said as she put the bowl down. “Elizabeth’s in pain.”

Mavis hurried to the bed.

“Why does it hurt so much?” Elizabeth asked.

“It’s okay,” Mavis assured her. “It’s only the afterbirth.”

Elizabeth’s eyes were wide. “I don’t remember it feeling like this.”

“Every time is a little different,” Mavis said calmly. “Let’s get you ready.” She gathered the infant from Elizabeth and handed him to Annie. “Hold the baby for a moment.”

Mavis removed Elizabeth’s extra pillow and prepared her for the next phase. Then she returned to her position at the foot of the bed.

“This part won’t be as hard.” Mavis gave a reassuring smile and lifted Elizabeth’s knees.

Mavis’s smile froze in place as she looked under the sheet.

“What’s happening?” Elizabeth’s voice was thin and thready.

Annie glanced up from rocking the baby.

Elizabeth’s stare locked onto Mavis’ face.

“My Lord in the heavens!” Mavis gasped.

“What?” Annie moved to Mavis’s side.

“There’s too much blood,” Mavis whispered.

Annie gasped when she saw blood flow onto the bedding, soaking the sheets.

“I don’t feel right,” Elizabeth huffed through clenched teeth. The skin on her cheeks looked impossibly transparent and bloodless lips had all but disappeared in a painful grimace.

This wasn’t happening! It wasn’t. Fate had to have sent Annie from the future to prevent this very catastrophe. Otherwise, why was she here?

“Everything will be all right,” Annie said, hurrying to Elizabeth’s side. “Mavis will take care of you. And the doctor is coming.” She turned to Mavis for confirmation, but the other woman was busy packing towels and linen around Elizabeth.

With the baby in her arms, Annie could only watch helplessly as the situation spun out of control.

Elizabeth sighed. “That’s better,” she whispered. “The pain’s getting better.” She closed her eyes. “I feel so tired. I want to rest now.”

Annie sat beside the new mother. By sheer will alone, she would not allow Elizabeth to give up. Surely, she could do something. She must know something from the future that would save Elizabeth.

“Stay with me, Elizabeth!” She had to keep the new mother awake. “Look at your son. He’ll need to eat again soon.” She held the infant for Elizabeth to see. “What are you going to name him?”

Elizabeth slowly opened her eyes. She seemed to take a moment to focus. When she looked at the baby, she smiled weakly. Her voice was barely more than a murmur. “Paul and I decided if we had a boy, we’d call him Richard, in honor of you and your grandfather.”

Vertigo gripped her so strong, she was glad she was sitting. “Richard.” She always thought her grandfather had been named after his father. Instead, this baby was being named for her grandfather.

Had she’d changed history by coming to this time or had it all been preordained and was now coming full circle?

Elizabeth gasped as another spasm of pain gripped her.

The baby whimpered.

Elizabeth bit her bottom lip to stop her own cries. She reached out and gently stroked the fine hair on the infant’s head and he quieted. “He looks like Paul, doesn’t he?”

Annie nodded. “He looks like his mother, too.”

Mavis came around the bed and bent to whisper in Annie’s ear. “I can’t do any more. I’m going for the doctor. Don’t leave her.”

Annie spared a glance at Mavis when she rushed from the room then turned her attention back to Elizabeth. She wanted this to be a bad dream. Any moment she would wake up—she’d be at home—not in a time where nothing she did would save her great-great grandmother.

She and Elizabeth had spent so many days together—they had grown to know and love each other. Annie cherished that bond and wished it would last a lifetime. Yet, in her heart, Annie knew Elizabeth was dying. There was too much blood. If the doctor didn’t hurry, it would be too late.

Annie was afraid history would run its course. In that moment, she would have willingly given her life to save Elizabeth.

“I feel so sleepy.” Elizabeth’s hand dropped to the covers.

Tears traced down Annie’s cheeks as she cradled the baby. “Elizabeth,” she whispered. “Please don’t go.”

Elizabeth turned her head and stared at the wall behind Annie. The vacant gaze left her eyes, replaced by one of recognition. “Laura…” She smiled and reached out her hand. “My beautiful little girl...”

The vision was meant only for the young mother, yet she couldn’t help herself from glancing over her shoulder anyway. There was nothing to see.

“I’ve missed you so…” Elizabeth’s voice was barely audible.

Annie stared at her great-great grandmother as the life-light faded from her eyes.

One heartbeat, two...

Elizabeth closed her eyes and, with a soft sigh, was gone.

“No.” A sob rose up and escaped. “Oh, please. Dear Lord, no.”

The baby squirmed and started to whimper.

She tightened her arms around the small bundle and swiped a tear from her cheek. Cradling the babe in one arm, she stood and crossed to the rocking chair in the corner. Numb with grief and loss, she sank into the seat, unable to drag her gaze from the pale specter of Elizabeth’s face, so serene and peaceful.

She sensed gossamer whispers between birth and death floating about the room. They were neither comforting nor condemning—simply eternal.

Reverently, she closed her eyes and touched her forehead to the babe’s. He fussed for a moment and then settled when she pressed him against her bosom, offering the tip of her pinky for the newborn to suckle.

How long she sat there, she didn’t know.

When Mavis finally returned with Paul and the doctor, she felt as though it had been a lifetime.

Elizabeth’s lifetime.

****

Pastor Thaddeus’s sermon on the hope of life after death offered little comfort while Annie gazed at the pine casket before her.

Once the services ended, she clutched baby Richard to her chest as she walked with Paul out of the church.

In the pouring spring rain, she and Paul trudged through the mud as they followed the wagon to the cemetery. A few of the town’s folk returned to their homes, but most trailed behind, supporting Paul and sharing his loss.

The town had seen its share of burials and memorials over the past few days since the mining disaster. Although still reeling from their own tragedies, almost the entire community turned out for Elizabeth’s funeral.

At the cemetery, Annie could barely look at the open grave beside the tiny headstone that bore Laura Crawford’s name. The flowers Elizabeth had placed on her daughter’s grave, just last Sunday, still held a bloom. Annie felt her heart shatter.

She stole a glance at Paul.

His face could have been carved from granite. He simply stared at his wife’s casket as it was lowered into the cold, wet ground.

Notably absent was Luke Maxwell. No one had seen him since the day the mine collapsed. The same day he’d chased after the shaman.

Annie didn’t know what to think. Everyone she’d talked to had no recollection of seeing him at the mine. In the chaos of the rescue, how could anyone be certain?

She hoped he was with the shaman. She refused to contemplate that he’d been trapped when the mine collapsed a second time burying two of the rescuers.

No one could be sure if Luke had been among the buried. Since he was missing, his name had been added to the memorial service held for all the miners whose bodies couldn’t be recovered.

In her heart, she believed Luke was alive. Somewhere, he was learning the secret for them to return to their own time. She had to have faith he would come for her.

What if he had found the secret? With everything that had happened in the past week, Annie wasn’t sure she wanted to return. She wasn’t sure she could. Paul needed someone to care for the baby. If she left, he’d have no one.

Mavis had offered herself as a wet nurse, relieving Annie of the worry about the baby’s nutrition. In addition, Dr. Smyth schooled her in a new method of preparing infant’s formula using goat’s milk, water, and honey, he learned from a medical journal the previous year.

The old-fashioned bottles were dramatically different from the versions Annie had seen in her own time, but Mavis had used them before and made sure Annie knew how to handle the “in-between” feedings.