Silver Lining (36 page)

For a woman who had always prided herself on not being a crier, she had sure shed a lot of tears since Christmas. Pulling a hand out from under the blankets, she wiped her eyes and her nose.

Maybe Max had guessed the other thing she had to tell him, and that's why he was so adamant about not taking the money. No, if Max had guessed, he'd let the beeves starve before he'd allow her to work as hard as she did twice a day.

That's why she hadn't told him that she was two months pregnant.

She wasn't going to leave him while he needed her. She wouldn't leave until the range began to green up and the cattle could graze. Oh God. Thinking about it made her stomach cramp.

She didn't know how she would find the grit to honor her agreement and ride away from here. This was her home now. She had scrubbed its floors, washed its windows, shoveled snow off the porch, bathed in the kitchen. She knew the corner where the house had settled. Knew how to make the oven bake evenly. If she wasn't here, who would take care of her chickens? Who would pin the laundry on the line when she was gone?

Thinking of the house was easier than bearing the pain that knifed through her body when she thought about Livvy and Sunshine and Gilly. They were so much a part of her life now, so much a part of who she had become since she tumbled out of the wagon in front of Livvy's veranda.

The thought of finding a family and then having to leave them behind ripped at her heart.

But that pain was only a fraction of the agony she would feel when she kissed Max for the last time.

When they sat in bed together, their shoulders touching, for the last time. When he took her in his arms for the last time.

She had sworn she would never love him, but she did. Oh God, she did. She loved every single thing about him. She loved the way he tried always to do the right thing, and how he felt about his family. She loved the gentle way he treated his animals and the moments when he gazed at her with tenderness and understanding. She even loved him when he turned stubborn and pushed out his chin.

How could she live without his touch and his kisses and the sound of his laughter?

But every day brought the moment of departure closer. For weeks she could forget that their marriage wasn't real. Then something like tonight happened, and she was jolted back to reality. She might have forgotten their marriage was only temporary. But Max had not.

Slipping her hands beneath the covers, she gently placed them flat on her stomach. This is what she had dreamed of and had longed for. Carrying Max's baby under her heart should have made her happier than anything else ever would. Instead, she turned her face into her pillow to muffle her sobs and wept until she'd cried herself dry.

*

The warm spell didn't last. Arctic air sank down from the north and gripped the plains in an icy stranglehold. Blizzards froze cattle where they stood, and cattle froze on clear days when the pale sun's thin warmth couldn't penetrate the lid of frigid air. Temperatures plummeted and stayed low, not rising above twelve below zero during the first ten days of February.

Finally, toward the end of the month, the numbing cold receded and patches of bare ground slowly reappeared. Crocuses pushed out of the ground on the sunny side of the barn and beside the veranda steps. During the last week, the red foxes returned, and a bluebird was spotted near the bunkhouse.

Philadelphia watched it all from her bedroom window.

While she did nothing but pace and wait, Wally went into town every day. Livvy kept house and her accounting ledgers, went to Max and Low Down's place every Sunday. Max and Low Down worked their ranch and fought to keep the cattle alive. Heaven only knew what Gilly did every day, but she and her family also drove to Max's house every Sunday.

Everyone had things to occupy their time except her. She had not gone into town since Christmas, two months ago. And no one had come here to call on her.

She, who not long ago had been society's undisputed leader, was now being shunned. How could this happen? People had clambered for an invitation to her musicals and her receptions. Her presence had guaranteed an event would be a success. The door knocker rapped all afternoon during her at-home days. She had been the person who decided who was the crème de la crème and who should be dropped from guest lists.

Now, unbelievably, she had been dropped. When she let herself think about it, rage made her ill, and she had to lie down.

It never should have been this way. She and Max should have been the toast of the town. Young newlyweds at the peak of society, swirling from one engagement to another, setting the pace and the mode, the envy of everyone.

And that's how it would be once the problems were fixed.

Turning from the window, she frowned across the room at the cradle against the wall.

The only thing anyone could talk about was the baby, the baby, the baby. And Livvy watched her all the time. Her mother-in-law studied her color, stared at her stomach, observed how she sat and walked and what she ate.

And every day it got worse. Every morning Livvy smiled broadly and said the same thing. "We could have a baby any hour now." Then Wally would look startled and ask if he should ride into town or stay here with his wife.

This morning Livvy had pointed out that Philadelphia was two days overdue, hinting that Wally should stay home. But Philadelphia had eventually persuaded him to go on into town. And then she'd had to listen to Livvy thanking heaven that she'd carried to term and hadn't miscarried.

Two days overdue.

Wally would be distracted at the bank, awaiting word. So would her father. And so would Max. Livvy had three cowboys waiting, ready to ride to the bank, to Gilly's, and to Max's the instant her labor began.

Two days overdue.

First babies often came early, but they were seldom more than two weeks late.

She could wait another week, but what was the point? Delay wouldn't make what she had to do any easier.

Brooding and angry, she shoved her nightgown in the laundry bag and made certain a fresh gown lay near at hand. Then she removed all jewelry except her wedding band. After she brushed her hair into a simple knot at the nape of her neck, she lifted her head high and walked out of her bedroom to the top of the staircase.

There was no choice.

She drew a deep breath and placed a hand over her thundering heart. And then she threw herself down the staircase.

«^»

W
ally and Howard Houser jumped out of Howard's carriage and rushed toward the door as Max and Louise followed Gilly's horse into the yard of the main house.

Livvy met everyone at the front door and ushered them into the parlor where she quickly related how she'd heard Philadelphia 's scream, followed by a horrifying racket. When she reached the foyer, she found Philadelphia sprawled unconscious at the foot of the staircase.

Howard started up out of his chair, but Livvy raised a hand. "She's in bed now, resting. She could have broken her neck, but she didn't. She has a cut on her forehead and a sprained wrist and ankle. She may get a black eye, and she'll certainly be bruised."

"And the baby?" Howard demanded.

"I'm guessing that's why she came to the stairs. To call me because her labor had begun." Livvy clasped her hands in front of her waist. "Frankly, I don't hold much hope for the baby," she informed them, speaking slowly. " Philadelphia 's contractions are weak and she's been bleeding since she fell." She stared hard at Howard and Wally. "If either of you can talk sense to her, I beg you to urge her to allow us to send for Dr. Pope or a midwife. She won't listen to me. Each time I mention outside assistance, she becomes hysterical."

"Where's my daughter?" Howard stood, a bloodless scowl clamping his expression.

"She's upstairs. I'll go with you." Wally and Houser hurried out of the parlor.

Every instinct urged Max to follow, but his mother's gaze pinned him and warned that he would not be welcome. Because he couldn't remain seated, he added wood to the parlor fire and knelt before the flames. Frustration rolled his stomach in knots, and he thought the top of his head would blow off.

He was to blame for whatever happened today. Philadelphia 's pain, the birth or loss of a child. His child. If Philadelphia died, he would never forgive himself. It was hard enough already. But if his lust had put her in a position where she died…

"I left Sunshine with Dave," Gilly said when the silence became oppressive. "I didn't think she should …"

"You made the right choice," Livvy agreed absently, her gaze on the staircase.

Louise studied Max, then turned to Livvy. "What can we do to help?"

"Gilly is no good in a medical situation. We'll put her to work in the kitchen. Gilly, you know where I stacked the diapers and blankets. Get them ready. Also, we'll need a supply of towels. And there'll be wash to do."

"I assume the 'we' you keep mentioning means you and me?" Louise inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm guessing you've attended a birthing or two?"

"Several," Louise admitted. "Most of them sudden. Where there was no one to help but me." She glanced toward the hearth, concerned by the pain in Max's eyes. "But I doubt Philadelphia wants me to help with her delivery."

"If Mr. Houser and Wally can persuade her to allow a doctor, I'll assist him alone. If not, I need you no matter how she feels about it." Livvy dusted her hands together, the matter decided.

Twenty long minutes later Wally and Howard Houser returned to the parlor. Houser walked directly to the window and glared through the panes. "That is the most stubborn woman… She has some damned idiotic idea that no one will learn about the baby if she has it alone. But every person in Fort Houser will know if we send for Dr. Pope."

"Like you said, Ma, she gets hysterical about having a doctor present." Wally pushed both hands over his forehead and through his hair. "But she agreed that if something goes wrong and it looks as if she might die, then we can send for Doc Pope. But we had to promise not to do it until she gives the word."

Livvy blinked hard. " Philadelphia is in no fit state to make this decision. I implore you to send for Doc Pope right now!"

Howard answered without turning from the window. "This day will be hard enough without beginning it on a broken promise. This pregnancy began in betrayal, it isn't going to end that way. When my daughter tells me to fetch Dr. Pope, I will. But not before." When he faced into the room, his gaze hardened on Max. "Why is he here?"

"I sent for him," Livvy said sharply.

"I have a right to be present," Max insisted. But it was Wally he faced. They stared at each other. "After this baby is born, I'll step back and relinquish any claim, as I promised. But today, I need to be here as much as either of you."

"And I need Louise's help. She's assisted at birthings before. Oh. You haven't met Max's wife." Hastily Livvy introduced Louise to Howard Houser.

"Howdy do," Louise said solemnly. In her old life she would have stuck out her hand to shake. But she didn't have to strain to know what to do in this situation. Philadelphia 's father wore his superiority like a shield to ward off people like her.

Howard Houser looked her up and down, and his eyebrows soared as if he were surprised to discover that she was clean and tidy and modestly dressed.

Louise was surprised by him, too. She'd expected the man who was making a misery of her life and Max's would look like the ogre he was. But Houser was her height, balding, and he looked more ordinary than she had imagined. Right now, he was a man half-sick with worry for a beloved daughter.

"Shouldn't someone be with her? She's alone."

As the sharp words were directed to her, Louise supposed the statement indicated his grudging approval. Howard Houser would have welcomed the devil if the devil could help his daughter.

Now Houser flicked a hand at Wally. "It's early, but I could use a drink. It's going to be a long day."

"We all could," Wally said, meaning the men.

Before she hurried after Livvy, Louise sought a quick word with Max. He stood before the fireplace as if he'd taken root there, staring into the flames.

"You haven't said two words."

He didn't look at her. "If she dies …"

"She ain't going to die, Max. I promise you, I won't let her die." Philadelphia was the mother of his child, and she should have been his wife. He loved her. Never had Louise been more aware of that than now as she watched knots ripple up his jaw, saw his hand working the green marble in his pocket.

"How soon will something happen?" he asked in a low voice.

"I imagine it'll be several hours yet."

He nodded. "Tell Ma I'm going to borrow one of her horses. I need to do something or I'll lose my mind."

She didn't let herself dwell on his feelings because it would hurt too much. And she walled off her own emotions because they hurt, too. To get through today, she needed to forget that her husband loved Philadelphia and that Philadelphia would give him a child before this day ended.

There was something else that she didn't let herself think about, although she knew she would later.

Philadelphia 's child would be half sister or half brother to the child that Louise carried. It was another reason, maybe the best reason, to do everything she could to help mother and child come through the delivery safely.

Livvy waited outside Philadelphia 's bedroom door. "I'm sorry to ask you to help after the abominable way Philadelphia has treated you. But there's no one else."

"It doesn't matter." She gave Livvy a steady, direct look. "Now the whole truth."

"I had an idea you'd know there was more." Livvy shook her head and wrung her hands together. "I don't know what to make of this. I ran to the barn and brought back two cowboys to help me get her upstairs and into bed. That's when I noticed that she was bleeding profusely. Once I got her into a nightgown and lying down, the bleeding slowed. I packed her with absorbent cotton."

"You've got a rubber sheet on the bed?"