Dances Naked (5 page)

Sarah looked up and behind the man to Wallace. He once again gave a slight nod. She didn’t have to tell him what was going on. He knew childbirthing was neither a quick nor an easy task. He looked at her again to make sure she understood that yes, he would tend to the meat for dinner and anything else that was needed.

“Where’s the whisky?” the man demanded. “You said there’d be whisky.”

“I, I did not!” Sarah blurted out with exasperation. “I told you we had ale. Wallace,” Sarah was biting her bottom lip again, trying to contain her steadily increasing rage at the man’s rudeness, “would you get mister…what
is
your name?” she demanded. He wasn’t going to get anything else until she at least knew his name.

“Mr. Grant MacLeod
,
if you really need to know, which you don’t,” he said as he looked up toward the sun, apparently trying to gauge the time of day.

Sarah and Wallace looked at each other quickly then broke eye contact. Sarah bent back down to the kettle with the muslin bags of black cohosh root, juniper berries, slippery elm, and rue. Wallace looked over at Evie, making sure she was okay. Did she know who this man was, or at least his family name? Yes, she probably did. She was frowning and staring down the road to the mill, rubbing her left shoulder, the shoulder where she had been shot less than two weeks ago by that worthless excuse for a man, Captain Atholl MacLeod. Wallace looked back to the pregnant woman. He saw her gaze at his children in the playpen, a slight smile trying to crack
her
stone countenance. Then she put her hand on the top of her swollen belly and the chance at happiness glow was gone, a hard, angry look replacing it.

“Well, where’s the ale?” groused Grant
.
“I’m thirsty!”

Wallace shifted his eyes over to the ungrateful guest. Something was very wrong with this scenario
,
but he would have to wait to find out more. He wasn’t going to speak with Sarah or Evie about it until this man was out of hearing range. “Why don’t you go sit down under that tree in the shade? I’ll bring you a bottle of ale and a bit of bread. Would that suit you?” Wallace asked with only a slight hint of disgust.

“Better make that three bottles—
I don’t want you havin’ to run back and forth all the time,” he replied, ending his comment with sinister laugh that made both Sarah and Wallace shudder.

“How did you wind up with him?” Wallace asked Sar
ah as they headed to the spring
house.

“Lord only knows,” she replied sharply. She looked over at the practically catatonic mother who would have to deliver a dead baby later. “Yes, the Lord does know,” she said, this time with determination. “And I’ll do my best to save the mother. The baby’s already dead.” Wallace’s eyes widened with shock. “Oh, I’m sorry, you didn’t know. The baby has been dead for a few days. We have to get it out before she dies, too. Her other child is in rough shape but can bounce back with good care. Wallace, the baby is Atholl MacLeod, Jr. The woman is Rachael and she said that, that ‘Grant’ is her brother. Do you think…?”

“Hey, where’s the ale?” hollered Grant. He had pulled a quilt off the clothesline and was wadding it up to use as a pillow.

Wallace gritted his teeth. He swallowed his rising anger and counted to ten in Latin before he spoke. “I’ll be right there,” he called back. He put his hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “I’ll get back to you on that,” he said s
oftly, then headed to the spring
house for the ale.

I had heard the shouting about ale and realized that the brother would probably want something to eat, too. Hopefully, he was the type who would eat and drink then fall asleep. Well, we didn’t have that much ale so that wasn’t likely. I looked over at the covert stash of painkillers that I had brought back with me from the 21
st
century. Nope, I’d better not. It would be too easy to slip a ground up Percocet into a sandwich with hopes that the creep would fall and stay asleep until the birthing was over.

“Wallace, I’ll make our guest something to eat,” I called out. He waved his hand in acknowledgment.

“Sorry ‘bout this, Lord” I said softly as I looked skyward. “I’m just conserving our provisions and helping the man get a good nap.”

Hey, what can I say? Sometimes we decide to take the easy way out. I had four babies and a pregnant woman I was going to have to contend with this evening. I’d rather have Wallace helping Sarah
and me
than kowtowing to a belligerent sot.

I scraped off as much ham as I could from the bone that I had held back for the pot of beans. I combined the meat and two pulverized pills into some grated cheese, fought back the impulse to spit into the mix
,
and
then smashed the works into a heel of bread, making a little ham and cheese pasty for the greedy man. This would have to do him until supper, if he was even awake by then.

I looked over and saw Jenny was with the babies and Rachel was seated on the porch bench again. She really was pathetic but I could only help her body right now. The mind healing would take longer and would probably involve Divine intervention. “I’ll be right back, Jenny.”

“Can I have some, Mommy?” she asked when she saw the sandwich.

“Not this one; I’ll make you one when I get back. Why don’t you get our lady guest a drink of milk?”

“Okay,” she answered
,
then quickly jumped up and ran to the barn, eager to help. Rachel sighed as she watched my little girl, happy and healthy, bound across the yard in front of her.

“Your son will be healthy soon, too,” I remarked. “And you can eat solid food after we get the, after the delivery.” I gulped at the awkwardness of the remark then returned to the task of serving the grump his snack.

“Well, what took you so long?” he asked with an insincere smile and a stare that took me ab
ack. Oh, God—it wasn’t a smile—i
t was a leer!

“Here, enjoy it,” I said as I dropped the plate in his lap and left in a hurry, almost running. I didn’t care if I had made a mess or not. If he was hungry, he’d eat it. I wasn’t going back to within three yards of him again without an escort, an armed escort. He may be just the brother-in-law of that asshole Captain MacLeod, but he gave me the same creepy, crawly feelings.

Wallace ran to catch up with me as I scurried to the house. “Hold on,” he said as he pulled me away from the porch steps, away from Rachel and Jenny who were sharing a big mug of milk. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“That, that…creep! God! Are you sure he’s only Rachel’s brother? He, he, he leered at me just like Asshole!” I was wiping my arms with my hands, trying to erase the feeling of insects crawling all over me.

“Her name’s Rachel?” he asked, “Rachel MacLeod?”

“I guess. I mean, I know her name is Rachel
,
and her baby is Atholl Grant MacLeod, Jr.
,
but I don’t know if she is
,
or was
,
married to
him
. I didn’t ask
,
but that seems to be the usual way of doing things around here, I mean
now
, shoot, you know what I mean!”

I was getting exasperated and he knew it. He put his arm around me and held me tight despite
the heat. I didn’t care either—
I hugged him back even tighter. “It’s going to be okay,” he said. “It has to,” he added as he let me go. “But I have to tell you. The man’s name is Grant MacLeod.”

“What?” I exclaimed too loudly. I looked over and saw Jenny and Rachel looking over at us. “It’s okay,” I lied to the women. “What?” I repeated to Wallace, softly this time but with just as much curiosity and amazement.

“Well, it looks like the three of them are siblings. At least that’s the only way I can see that Rachel and Grant are siblings and the baby is, um, ‘A.M.’ junior. Lord, how old is she? She looks like a child.”

“She’s only fourteen and this is her third baby. I don’t think I want to know what happened to the first one. But
,
I do know that we’re here to help her with this third one and also the second one. He has an infection
,
but I’m sure cleaning him up and keeping him that way will help. Rachel will get milk again after she delivers this baby, the dead part doesn’t make a difference, and then she can bring the boy back up to speed.”

“Huh?” Wallace asked, not recognizing the 21
st
century slang that I had lapsed into.

“I mean, he’ll catch up on growth and weight gain with nursing if she eats right and gets rest. She was on her way to live with a relative in New Bern when Sarah saw them on the road. Hopefully
,
she’ll get rid of Grant along the way. Please, don’t leave me alone with him, not even for a second.” I realized that I was subconsciously rubbing my still tender left shoulder as I asked, rather begged. Time may heal all wounds
,
but there hadn’t been nearly enough time for the emotional and physical wounds of being intentionally shot by a lecherous child molester to even scab over
my injuries
.

“S

o,
what do we do now?” Rachel asked
glumly
.  “I want it to be over with. Ooh,” she groaned as she
suddenly
grabbed her stomach
and leaned forward
. “I think it’s starting
.
My belly hurts
now
.”

Sarah cut a glance over to me,
a trace of fear in her eyes. I doubt that the tea had had a chance to work yet. That meant either Rachel was losing the baby on her own or there were complications. The words ‘detached placenta’ flashed into my mind. I reached out and grabbed Sarah’s hand with my right and Rachel’s with
my
left. “Lord, please help us in this, this procedure. We know you have the baby with you now
,
but please keep Rachel safe here on earth. She has the other baby to see to still. Thank you in advance for taking care of all our needs; in Jesus name, Amen.”

I breathed a deep sigh of relief. “There, now I feel better. Everything’s going to be fine.” I turned to Sarah. “Excuse me, but if you don’t need me, Sarah, I’ll go get dinner started.”

“Thanks.
Go ahead—
I’m fine for now. Rachel, would you lie down here, please. Let’s see what’s going on.” She patted and prodded her patient and talked softly to her as I gathered up the plates and utensils to take outside. I didn’t want to get too close to the woman emotionally. I already felt like I knew too much about her and her perverted brother.

I got dinner under way and came back to talk to Sarah. Something was bothering me and I had to share it.  I pulled her outside and asked discreetly, “Do you think that a little whisky might be a good idea? Not so much for the pain but for the shock of the, well, you know.” I didn’t want to say that it would be so Rachel didn’t freak out when she saw her dead baby
,
but Sarah knew what I meant and obviously agreed.

“I put a b
it in the tea, but you’re right—
it might soften the blow.” She went back inside and pulled out a half-full bottle of whisky from under the cupboard. “I don’t think we should cut it with honey and milk,” she told me. “The more we get into her in the next hour, the better. She’s progressing rapidly. Normally I wouldn’t w
ant a labor to go this quickly—it’s hard on the baby—b
ut in this case
,
it doesn’t make a difference.”

“If that’s whisky, can I have some?” Rachel asked when Sarah stopped talking. “I want to be blind drunk when this baby comes out. You’ll take care of the body, won’t you? I don’t want to see it.”

Rachel had been reclining when Sarah brought out the whisky
,
but elbowed her way up to a sitting position with the offer of oblivion. “If there’s ever any whisky around, Grant gets it. Ooh, there’s another one,” she winced as she grabbed her lower belly.

She started huffing and blowing without instruction. I watched as she finished her contraction with a cleansing breath, just like I would have told her to do. It appeared she was already employing the Lamaze method. “Where did you learn to do that?” I asked. “I mean the breathing during the contractions.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “When I was pregnant with the first baby, my daughter, I didn’t know what to do, how to birth the baby. Our mother was dead
,
and I didn’t know anyone else that could help. My brothers didn’t know or care a
bout how babies came out. ‘Hey,’
they said, ‘the cat can have kittens without any help so you can, too.’ So when it was her time
,
I went out to the barn and watched the cat have her kittens. I saw that she did the breathin’ when her tummy got hard and, well, she did yowl right there toward the end when the first one came out
,
but after that
,
she was okay. So
,
I just did the breathin’ when little Esther started to come. But
,
I didn’t yowl or holler or nothin’, ever! My brothers knew what was gonna happen and said I’d probably scream ‘til my throat bled
,
but I didn’t. I wasn’t gonna let them have the satisfaction of hearin’ me hurtin’. It was all their fault anyway.”